Changes
by Faere
Summary: Slighly AU. Feeling vulnerable, not only to herself, but to those who would exploit her, Chloe feels she can no longer stay in Metropolis and chooses another town marked with the dark and mysterious. An attempt at a Chloe-centered crossover. Chruce
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Alright, this is my first Smallville/DC fic, so expect goofs. These first two chapters were written a couple of months before the current season, so I haven't tweaked it to fit this current season...yet. Any similarities is purely coincidental...seriously. I have someone that'll vouch for me :) But I've not decided yet to tweak or not to tweak. I'm really not leaning in that direction yet. But I hope you can be kind and bear with me._

_Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own Smallville, DC, characters thereof, yaddy-yada..._

oOo

"Chloe, why are you doing this?!"

The entire floor of the Daily Planet nearly came to a grinding halt at the exasperated shout. Copy and fax machines ceased their clicking and humming. Fingers stopped clacking and quietly hovered over their prospective keyboards. One solitary ring of a phone was quickly silenced by a quick pick-up and slam. All eyes had turned to the small trio standing close by the Daily Planet's up and coming new investigative reporter.

Chloe couldn't stop the infuriated heat that rushed to her cheeks. At least a hundred pairs of eyes were immediately trained on her. Chloe quickly spared her cousin a glare. "Gee, Lois, that was more effective than '_Stop the presses'_," she mumbled through pressed lips as she continued to empty out her desk into a business tote.

Lois only rolled her eyes until she realized everyone was still staring. "What--?"

Before Lois could finish, the door to the editor-in-chief's office flew open with a very agitated Perry emerging. "What the hell is everyone gawking at? Get back to work!"

Properly humiliated, the three stood silent for a moment as the room once again erupted into resumed activity as if nothing had happened.

"Way to be subtle, Lois," Clark mumbled as he quickly glanced around the room. He knew that Perry was understandably upset.

"Can it, Smallville," Lois said quickly as she turned back to her cousin. "Chloe, I don't understand. This is the job you've dreamed of your whole life, you've just landed the story of a lifetime and now you're just going to up and leave?"

Chloe refused to look at her cousin, despite the fact she was practically standing over her, hands on hips. "I just need some time off, that's all," she replied just as she picked up her name plate.

**'****CHLOE SULLIVAN****'** etched in bold caps across the golden plate stared back at her. This was the second time in her life that she had to do this. Fate seemed to enjoy doing the happy dance over all her dreams.

"You see," Lois continued as she rounded Chloe to look her in the eye. "I can tell you're not leaving because you want to." She gave an exasperated sigh. "Is this because of me?"

That quickly pulled Chloe out of her silent moment of bittersweet memory to shoot her cousin a perplexed, albeit peculiar look. "Excuse me?"

Lois sighed and leaned into a not-so-modest stance. "Look, I know you worked your way up from the basement for the last couple years and to have someone come in after working at a…" Lois trailed off to search for the right words.

"Scandal sheet," Chloe supplied quickly, referring to Lois' stint as a _"reporter"_ for the tabloid newspaper, _The Inquisitor_.

Lois stopped and leveled her eyes at her cousin. "I was going to say, a less-than-reputable news magazine."

"A scandal sheet," Clark repeated wryly from behind her.

Lois turned and narrowed her eyes at him. "_Enough_ from the peanut gallery." Clark merely gave a quick raise of the eyebrows and folded his arms in front of him.

"Look, Lois, I just need some time," Chloe reiterated, hopefully with a more convincing tone.

"So take a sabbatical," Lois insisted, her fervor regained. "You don't have to pack up your life," she added as she grabbed Chloe's name plate and held it aloft for emphasis.

"You know, you're not making this any easier!" Chloe snapped as she yanked her name plate out of Lois' hands and furiously chucked it in to her bag.

Lois, baffled by the entire situation, became defensive and crossed her arms in front of her. "Good," she shot back.

Clark had stood silent long enough. He knew Lois' intentions were good…if this was what could be called good, but she didn't know the entire story and that was the way Chloe preferred it.

Clark stepped close to the side of the two glaring women in the hopes of mediation. He didn't want them to part ways like this for both would certainly regret it later. "Look Lois, Chloe obviously has her reasons and the best thing we both can do is stand by and support her in her decision."

Lois turned to Clark aggravated at first, but suddenly her eyes leapt wide and her mouth fell open. "You know why she's leaving, don't you?" She quickly turned back to Chloe as she jerked a thumb in Clark's direction. "You told _him_, didn't you?"

At that, Chloe could say nothing much less hide the sheepish look of guilt that crept up into her face. The last thing in the world was tell Lois what was happening. But the sudden look of hurt in Lois' eyes and the pull of disappointment in her shoulders and Chloe was ready to spill, but a quick glance at Clark and she reined in the need to unburden herself.

A look of irony overcame Lois as she emitted a punctuated sigh. "I knew it," she finally proclaimed. "Something's going on. I should've known something was up when you started taking jujitsu classes…"

"Self-defense, Lois," Chloe corrected. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to protect myself."

"But why would you need to?" Lois exclaimed loud enough to pull the attention of a few passersby.

Chloe shot Lois what she hoped was her best look of indignation. "Are you kidding me, Lois? You call yourself a reporter. Do you know what the statistics are for a woman being physically attacked in this country? Every five minutes…"

"All right, all right, you made your point," Lois conceded in disappointment with her hands held up in surrender. "What about Jimmy?"

Chloe simply gave her cousin a sideways glance and couldn't help scoffing a bit. "Jimmy and I were over a long time ago," she said as she looked straight at Clark. Jimmy still couldn't get over how close she and Clark remained. Not to mention Clark's impeccable timing no matter what whenever she was in trouble.

_"How can I compete with that?"_ he'd shot at her.

Chloe had been emphatic that she simply would not give up her friends over someone that couldn't trust her simply because of his own insecurity aside from the fact that she had her own, but it wasn't something she wanted to dwell on. Right now Lois hardly looked appeased and if she didn't say something soon, her diligent cousin was going to be all over her like the proverbial white on rice.

"Hey, it's not gonna be so bad," she began. "Besides you're getting the opportunity of a lifetime. It isn't everyday I let you take over a story as big as this '_Superman'_ guy."

"What a name," Lois muttered as she shook her head momentarily before focusing again on Chloe.

Chloe ignored Lois, trying to stay as upbeat and inconspicuous as possible. "You'll be so busy and I'll be back before you know it. Then I'm gonna give _you_ a run for your money," she added with a playful point of her finger.

The look on Lois' face said that she wasn't about to bite. "So why do I feel like I'm losing you?" Her voice dropping to a serious, lower tone. "Like you said, you don't just let me take over a story without a fight. I mean, you didn't beat me out of the basement because you're a philanthropist with your by-lines. Something serious is up and you're not telling me what it is."

Chloe's shoulders slumped a bit and she sighed. "Lois, you're not losing me. I promise," Chloe insisted as she bent to pick up her computer bag. "There's just a lot that's been going on. After all, I'll still be writing for _The Planet_…maybe nothing as serious as investigative reporting, but I promise once I get a little R&R, you'll be first person that I dish. Okay?"

Just when Chloe thought she was going to have to cough up a huge lie, like major surgery…

"Okay," Lois finally said with a nod, but not without a threatening point of a finger. "Call me, because if you don't, so help me I swear that I'll—"

"You'll…what?," Chloe challenged with a raised brow and quirk in her smirk.

With that, Lois finally conceded with a sigh and embraced her cousin. "I'm not saying goodbye," she said into Chloe's ear.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Chloe replied, biting back tears now that the moment of truth had arrived.

"C'mon Chlo, I'll help you with you're stuff," Clark offered with an outstretched arm.

Chloe allowed Clark to sweep his arm behind her as she strode out of the newsroom for the second and possibly final time. Her emotions were beginning to get the best of her. As she came closer to the elevator doors Chloe debated with herself on whether or not to look back.

Lois was right. After her internship had been terminated the first time, thanks to Lionel Luthor, Chloe had swallowed her pride and attempted another try at getting a real job at the Planet.

And she did.

In the basement.

But it had been a start…an honest start. And while Chloe wasn't keen on having to work her way through the obituaries, wedding announcements, all in all, society's crap, but it was better than being obligated to someone like Lionel Luthor for her good fortune.

Starting at _The Planet_ again left her beholden to no one.

"Chloe?"

As if on cue, the muted _ding _of the elevator along with Clark's voice pulled her out of her sudden, bittersweet moment. She absently turned to Clark, worry etched on his face.

"You ready?" the question lifting his dark brows in uncertainty.

A split second of agony struck Chloe as she realized that it was now or never.

Should she look back?

The first time she was forced to leave was because of a Luthor. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would be forced to leave again because of a Luthor, but this time it wasn't Lionel.

It was Lex.

oOo

_A/N: Tell me what ya think! I can almost promise there were some errors. I've looked over it numerous times, but I always still feel like I've missed something. Constructive criticism is always welcomed. Flames will be ignored or used for some other deviant purporse :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Okay, so I tweaked this one just a tad to preserve a bit of continuity. I originally had Chloe in a coma after Lois' rescue, but instead decided to go with the whole morgue scene. Also, I can't promise that I'm going to be diligent in my updating, but I'll do my best. I'm not giving this new editor on the show any attention. For me, he'll serve his purpose long enough to get Lois going at the Planet and then he's gone. Just my opinion though. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville or DC comics, characters, persons, places, or things. I don't own squat, okay. _

oOo

Chloe gazed across Metropolis from the rooftop of _The Daily Planet_. The rays of the setting sun brightly illuminating the golden sphere that spiraled just above her cast a warming a glow that was in stark contrast to the coolness of the October wind that swiped at her face and twisted her hair.

But she didn't care. How many times had she come up here? Imagining the day when she'd finally work her way out of the basement to become one of _The Planet's_ top investigating reporters. Some of her fondest memories were spent with nothing but the noise of the traffic, the vision of the city, an enormous latte and maybe… the occasional pigeon.

Now it was all over.

Chloe wrapped her arms tightly about her middle. Whether to stave off the cold wind or the cold feeling in her heart, she wasn't for sure, but she planned on savoring this last moment as long as possible. She closed her eyes and put her face in the sun. The cliché of the moment wasn't lost on Chloe as she thought about taking a deep, cleansing breath, but smiled at that oxymoron. Taking too big of a breath was nearly the equivalent of smoking four cigarettes in the city of Metropolis.

"You know, you don't have to do this, Chloe," she heard Clark's voice from behind her, breaking the spell.

Chloe sighed tiredly. "You keep saying that, Clark," she said as she turned quickly. "And no matter how many times you say it, we both know that's not possible."

Clark gave an uneasy squint as he casually looked around before focusing on Chloe again. "But Gotham, Chloe? Why not Star City? Look, I've already talked to Oliver," he stepped closer to her, gearing up for a really good point.

Chloe crossed her arms as she leaned onto her left foot with an arched brow of suspicion. "Really?"

Ignoring her stance, Clark nodded as he continued. "Yeah, and he's already got a place to stay ready for you, a cushy job at Queen Industries… you would be close to your Mom," he noted quickly with raised brows and a punctuated point of his finger. "And I would know that you're safe."

Chloe couldn't help nodding. "Wow, I'm impressed."

Clark couldn't help flashing his best winning smile.

"But I'm not going," she added.

Said winning smile fell straight off his face. "But Chloe—

" '_But_' nothing, Clark," Chloe exclaimed as she began to pace. "You know, as well as I do, that's the first place Lex will look once he discovers I'm no longer in Metropolis. That is if he hasn't found out that I'll no longer be working at the Planet."

"That won't happen," Clark declared as he stepped towards her. "You were able to convince Mr. White to let you write a column for _The Planet_, didn't you?"

She only nodded in response, but couldn't help a shudder at that conversation. Explaining to Perry why he was losing one of his best reporters was like sitting on trial at Nuremburg charged with crimes against humanity.

Clark continued. "It may not be as big as investigative reporting, but at least it will place you here at _The Plane__t."_

"Yeah, but then what, Clark?" Chloe hugged her arms closer around herself. "Lex isn't stupid, he'll eventually figure out that I'm no longer here and I can't keep running. I can't let Lex run my life for me."

"You're not going to keep running," Clark declared strongly as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "We're going to figure out how to beat Lex at his own game."

Chloe merely gave an uncertain glance out of the corner of her eyes. "Who knew, huh?" she scoffed with a shrug of her shoulders.

Clark's face softened as he dropped his hands from her shoulders. "Knew what, Chlo?"

Chloe sighed. "That a small-town girl who had no other dreams or ambitions other than becoming the best investigative reporter _The Daily Planet_ would ever have would end up being the walking solution to America's healthcare problem."

Clark could only look on in silence. There wasn't much he could say. Chloe seemed to be harboring this incredible guilt that had somehow accompanied her ability to heal others.

"Gah, Clark! I mean, this…power…or whatever…this ability to heal should've been for someone who wanted to be a nurse or a doctor. Not an aspiring journalist."

"Who knows why we're given these particular gifts, but I do think it begs the question…"

"What am I going to do with it?" she supplied unenthusiastically.

"Hey." Clark tipped her chin to look up at him. "What you choose to do or _not _do with your abilities is totally up to you."

Chloe couldn't help the overwhelming of emotions. Her eyes began to well up. Once again, Chloe couldn't help recognizing the irony and gave a scoff of laughter as she swiped the water away. For only a moment, Chloe stared at the water on her fingers. So far, this had been the fundamental aspect of her ability. It had saved Lois' life, but not without making her appear dead for unspecified amount of time.

Chloe had awakened in what had been the hospital morgue. She'd been lucky that Clark had managed to hear her screaming for help. She didn't want to think about what could've happened if someone unlucky intern had found her. Neither for certain how it had all happened, but it didn't stop Lois from babbling on how she'd been stabbed in the gut and with about as much finesse as a three-year old, promptly jerked up her shirt to expose her abdomen and proclaim, _"See? Not a scratch."_

Chloe had been mildly amused at Clark's reticence at Lois' behavior and she had known then that everything would be all right. It had all seemed liked things were back to normal.

Seemed like.

Since that time, she hadn't explored her ability beyond what little she already knew. It had all been so new and very, _very _frightening. With Clark's help and a little digging into the surveillance video at the warehouse, she'd learned exactly what had saved Lois.

Her tears.

At first, Chloe had been a little…disappointed.

_"Other meteor freaks get these out-of-the-world abilities and I get the 'Cry Me A River' ability," _she'd remarked with more than a little disillusionment. But things had advanced somewhat since that time. One day she'd accidentally nicked her finger and without thinking had stuck her finger in her mouth. Walking to the bathroom to get some ointment and a band-aid, Chloe pulled her finger out of her mouth to find the cut was no longer bleeding and had completely healed.

Ever the cynic, she now joked that she could spit on people and they would be healed…and probably still be slapped with a lawsuit.

Lois still never learned the true reason for why she hadn't died the day that she'd been positive that man had stabbed her. Unfortunately, it seemed that somehow Lex had learned everything and now he seemed quite determined to obtain Chloe for his own purposes.

More than once she'd had to shake Lex's goons, with the help of Clark, of course. This hadn't been long after Clark had made his impromptu debut.

"Well, no use in _crying_ over spilled milk," Chloe remarked with a hint of sarcasm. "But at least I can still laugh about it."

Clark simply huffed in amusement. "You ready to go?" he asked.

With one last look over the Metropolis skyline, Chloe nodded as she embraced Clark. "At least this is one way I can travel that Lex can't track."

Clark merely smiled as he wrapped one arm around Chloe's waist and without another word, leapt into the air.

Destination: Gotham City.

V

Clark couldn't help turning his nose up in derision as he looked out of the window of Chloe's new apartment in, as Chloe so comfortingly put it, Gotham's _"not so bad part of the town"_. Right about the size of the room over _The Talon_ the apartment was perfect for Chloe, but inside it was rather dull and more than little dreary.

Much like the rest of the city in his opinion.

"I can't believe out of all the places in the world for you to choose to start over, you pick this one," Clark remarked as he turned away from the window while Chloe was busy arranging boxes throughout the apartment.

"Aw, c'mon Clark, give Gotham a chance," was the muffled reply from behind the zig-zag island in the kitchen.

"I can't believe you did," he called back with a chuckle.

"Besides, a little paint, some properly arranged décor, and this place will liven up a little." Chloe straightened and placed her hands on the kitchen counter. "I would've thought you'd know me a little better by now. I mean, look around you. This place is so full of the dark, the mysterious, the—

"Violence, the crime," Clark supplied with emphasis.

Chloe stopped and cocked her head to the side in good-natured frustration. "Everything to keep a good reporter busy," she finished with a quirky smile.

Clark only rolled his eyes.

Chloe stepped closer to him. "C'mon Clark, don't do this to me,"

"I'm just worried about your safety, that's all," Clark stated as he gripped her upper arms. "There's no one here that can keep an eye on you so that I know that you're safe. I mean, Lex's goons could probably walk around here in toboggan's carrying Uzis and no one would notice."

Chloe only sighed and momentarily closed her eyes. "Aren't you being a little overly dramatic, Clark? Besides, it isn't like I don't have your cell and you can't be here in a nanosecond, right?"

Clark dropped his hands only to clasp them together. "It isn't the same Chloe," he admitted. "Besides, I don't trust you not to call me when something's wrong."

Chloe straightened and raised her right hand in the air. "I, Chloe Sullivan, do solemnly swear to call Clark Kent if ever I'm in trouble or need his help," she recited with a hint of exasperation.

Clark only stood there with raised brows of cynicism. "Cute." Clark managed another glance out the filmy window. It was the beginning of October, though to look at Gotham it could've been the dead of winter and he wouldn't have known the difference. "You know it isn't too late to change your mind," he suggested. "I mean, wouldn't you rather be close to your mom?" he questioned, turning back to look at her.

At that, Chloe heavily set down another box and gave Clark a hard, pointed look. "You know as well as I do that is the first place that Lex will be looking and it's the last place where I should be," she added as she turned away to begin unwrapping glasses and putting them away in the cabinets.

Clark felt his brows furrow in question to the last. "Chloe, is there something you haven't told me?"

For only a beat, she paused, but quickly resumed her task. "Uh,…no," she replied and gave a dismissive, yet nervous chuckle. "Why do you ask?"

Clark sighed. Hadn't she learned by now that she couldn't lie to him? "I'm just worried about you, Chlo," he conceded. If she wasn't ready to tell him, then now was not the time to press.

Chloe turned with an air of nonchalance. "Seriously, Clark, if anything in any way happens that is definitely signature Lex, I promise that I will notify you a.s.a.p. Okay?"

"And to think you could be relaxing on a sunny beach somewhere or traversing the mysteries of the Orient or delving into secret passages under London or Venice." Clark was doing his level best to change her mind with some enticing adventures.

Chloe turned with wry twist of her mouth. "Clark, I'm a reporter, not Indiana Jones," she quipped as she stepped towards him.

Clark finally sighed, his shoulders dropping in defeat. "I just don't want to leave you here alone."

Chloe couldn't say anything, but simply put her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. "I'll be fine, Clark. I won't be alone." She suddenly cocked her head and pointed her finger at him. "Don't forget, I have my self-defense."

Clark only smiled at that. "Jujitsu, you mean?"

"Whatever," she replied carelessly flipping her hand around. "You just might be flying here to save some poor mug from _me_."

Her optimism could be infectious, but given her positive attitude towards the whole situation, Clark couldn't continue his crusade to get Chloe to go elsewhere. He hugged her to him fiercely. Though he still didn't feel convinced, Clark knew the best thing he could do was show Chloe that he supported her. Lex had become a major threat to Chloe since she'd learned that she had been meteor infected. He'd kidnapped her mother, various others, and all in the attempts to study their abilities to use for his own purposes.

He didn't want that to happen to Chloe.

"Clark," Chloe's voice was strained. "Clark, you're… squeezing me… to death."

Clark abruptly released her. "Chloe, I'm---"

Chloe only smiled and shook her head. "Don't worry about it, Clark. One thing's for sure,"-- she added with a gingerly shrug of the shoulders—"I'll always keep your bear hugs with me," a mock look of ache twisting her face.

Clark just gave a grin of bemusement. He knew the time was coming that he was going to have to leave. Doubts were trying to root him there in her apartment. The thought of leaving her alone with no family, no friends to turn to when things might get tough was weighing on him.

"C'mon Clark," Chloe interrupted softly. "It's time to face the music," she said, beginning to sound as downcast as he felt.

"Look, all you have to do is call me and I'll be here," Clark reminded a bit more emphatically as if he were leaving her to scavenge the darkest jungle.

"I know and I promise," Chloe replied tiredly. "Now come on, let's find what'll make or break this town,"-- She tugged at his jacket-- "We need to find a coffee shop."

oOo

_A/N: Did I mention that I'm slow when it comes to building these things? Once again, probably goofs, but surely not real major ones. Like I said, constructive criticism welcome. Flames...heh heh heh...fire! Fire!...sorry. :) _


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: I kind of got in a hurry on this one, so if there are any goofs, just let me know :)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville/DC comics, what-not, and so forth. It's just for fun, folks. _

oOo

Night had fallen in Smallville.

A dull orange glow emanated from a singular stained glass window set within the immense stones of the mansion enshrouded in the darkness giving the impression that possibly Vlad himself were inside plotting his next strategy.

Though it wasn't the famed Vlad inside, but someone who could derive pleasure out his own power to cause someone else pain and humiliation for his own means just as the _Impaler _himself was famed for implementing.

Inside the den of the lion it was hardly quiet.

Mozart's _Don Giovanni_ bellowed a dark and melancholy dirge from the _Commendatore Scene_deep within the study and echoed throughout the mansion.

To some, the setting would seem intimidating, sinister even, but none could possibly derive the sense of peace and self-satisfaction of one particular man that simply sat back in his leather-bound chair staring quietly at the dancing shadows cast by the flames flickering in the fireplace.

A subtle buzz and a flashing blue light was the only signal that he should turn down his mournful music.

"This better be good news," he clipped in greeting.

"She doesn't seem to suspect us, Mr. Luthor," a pleased voice informed over the phone. "When would you like us to make our next move?"

Lex took a deep drink of brandy as he contemplated. "Not just yet. I still haven't heard from contacts in Star City."

Lex paused for a moment as he kicked back once more in his chair. "Where is she now?" he asked, wanting to make certain that these men weren't jerking him around.

"In her apartment," was the confident reply. "Just back from the Planet. I'm looking at her right now through the space in the curtains."

"Excellent. Keep me informed."

"Yes, sir."

Lex clicked the phone closed and continued to stare absently into the dark shadows once more. After his divorce from Lana, Lex simply focused all of his emotion and energy into his plans that he'd begun long before he and Lana began having their issues.

Resting his elbows on the arms of the chair, Lex delicately placed his fingertips together and smiled with malicious content.

Yes, soon his plans would be firmly in place.

oOo

Clark never felt so stupid.

If Chloe could only see the embarrassment he was putting himself through. So far, he hadn't figured out what Lex's true plans were that involved Chloe, but since his split from Lana, Lex had thrown himself into it with renewed vigor. Hopefully, he would hear something from Oliver…

…soon.

For the time Chloe was going to spend in Gotham, Clark had decided to stay in her apartment while keeping an eye out at the _Planet_. But it had been Chloe's idea for him to stage her apartment occasionally so that it would seem that she still lived there. Seemed like a good idea at the time.

On that note, Clark managed a glance at the small wall mirror in front of him.

He wanted to die.

Clark fingered at the ridiculous blonde wig that adorned his head and cleverly framed his face behind layered waves. But the ultimate mortification was being clad in the pretty pink terry clothe robe Chloe claimed to "_wear on a regular basis_". He was beginning to think that she only told him that to enhance her own pleasure at his embarrassment. So far, his only saving grace was the ridiculous cucumber mud mask that covered his face in a mint green cream.

_"__Why me__?" he'd whined, holding up the pink bathrobe as if it were a biohazard. _

_"__Because when you think about it, there isn't anyone else__ left that I trust__," Chloe stated matter-of-factly.__"So, I'm sorry Clark, but that leaves you." _

_Chloe had smiled a little too deviously as she__'d__ bounced the blonde wig on the end of her fingertip in front of him. _

Clark knew the apartment was being watched and he hoped that he was pulling off a convincing portrayal of a bouncy blonde reporter through the sheer curtains that adorned the small windows…or at least as much as a 6'4" former quarterback could under the circumstances.

He looked in the mirror once more.

No way in hell.

But, Chloe was right. He simply couldn't risk anyone else. Not simply because of the danger, but for the simple fact that he didn't feel he could trust anyone else with the true reason that Chloe was no longer in Metropolis. Not even Lois.

Though now was the only time he wished Lois were here. She was obviously a much better candidate for something like this, but then that would mean telling her that Lex was after Chloe, which meant blowing Chloe's cover, via Lois' big mouth.

He needed to hurry up and find out what was going on. He just couldn't keep up this particular part of the charade for much longer.

The smell of cucumber was becoming overwhelming.

oOo

It was two o' clock in the morning and she still couldn't sleep. Bundled in her favorite fleece robe, Chloe sat on the edge of the window sill with her feet resting on the cold metal of the fire escape and stared absently up at the darkened sky. A few hours ago, she'd received a text message from Clark. It was simple and she couldn't resist a hearty laugh as it read, "_H__ope you appreciate this_." She was doing her best to picture him in that ridiculous pink robe she had purchased at a resale shop. Oh, how she wished she could see it for herself.

A quick cold gust of wind brought her out of her momentary humor and she clutched the warm coffee mug a little tighter as if she could suck the heat out of it to stave of the October chill of the night. Though her eyes felt heavy, Chloe simply couldn't fall asleep. The moment her head hit the pillow her mind began to race. Looking down at the cup she pondered if the true reason she was still awake was because of the caffeine or the sudden realization of what a large step she had taken.

_'So much for being fresh for my interview in…'_ she looked back at her clock. _'Five hours.'_

The constant ever-so-faint echoing of sirens in the distance was beginning to make her wonder if Gotham was the right choice. What if Clark was right? While at one of the local coffee shops, Chloe had picked up an edition of the _Gotham Gazette_ Sure it seemed as if violence and crime were reported, but even the writing seemed to drone with a sense of monotony like a fifth-grader reading a report on photosynthesis. Now she knew why their sales were in such a slump. What was typically news to the world was simply another day in Gotham.

Chloe sighed, but still felt a surge of determination. She would show _The Gotham Gazette_ what she was made of. The challenge of being able to pull a newspaper out a slump single-handedly was a journalistic thrill of immense proportions.

_'Great, now I'll never get to sleep,'_ she thought with a playful eye roll and sense of irony. Dedicating herself to such a job left her mind wandering.

She was possibly throwing herself into a huge commitment. The idea of coming here was simply to lay low for a while until she and Clark could figure out what Lex was planning. After having been accosted by Lex's goons, Clark had made his impromptu debut rescuing her, a situation with which he was immensely trying to play down.

After a night of Clark trying to convince Chloe that he simply wasn't ready for this sort of responsibility…yet, she finally caved. She'd agreed to at least write a vague story of her personal experience. Let out just enough detail to leave people wondering.

"_Like a UFO sighting or something,"_ Clark had muttered.

_"__Something like that.__"_

Chloe couldn't help smiling to herself at the thought. Who could find anything more outrageous than the appearance of a flying man?

oOo


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: Seriously folks, I'm flyin' by the seat of my pants. I'm really trying to pull this thing together, so if anyone has any ideas before I try to throw it all out there, let me know. _

Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, DC comics, and the like, etc.

oOo

_Clack, clack, clack, clack…_

Firmly ensconced within the editor-in-chief's office in Gotham City's lead newspaper, _The Gotham Gazette_, Chloe had to put a firm hand on her leg that continued to bounce wildly due to the sheer nervousness that she hadn't felt since she'd returned to _The Planet_ for a second time to beg for a job.

_'Why am I so nervous? '_

Another glance around the editor's office and she grasped at a small hint.

The room was typically framed in all windows which in turn was entirely surrounded by dark cherry lacquered wainscotings and moldings. All blinds. All closed. Complete with enormous 80-yr old desk and squeaky office chair, sitting in a room that nearly looked more like a 1940's shakedown was going to take place than a job interview seemed a tad intimidating.

But she wanted so badly to get this job, however at the same time she was beginning to grow concerned on whether or not to write under her preferred alias. If she didn't then it wouldn't take long for Lex to find her, but anyone who knew her well would be tipped off immediately...

But then again he would probably find her anyway…wouldn't he?

The sudden, yet familiar conundrum she had faced since before walking out of _The Planet_ began to bounce around like a never-ending equation in her mind and she hopelessly threw her head into her hands.

What was she even doing here?

_Clack, clack, clack__…_

_'Damn heels.'_

The sound of the door opening on its loose hinges and the inevitable slam along with the crash of the blinds against the window quickly cured Chloe's nervousness as her legs froze solid out of a jolt of adrenaline from being scared out of her wits in a single jump.

A well groomed graying older gentleman strode past her chair, eyes firmly on the open folder in his hand, the other lightly gripping the earpiece of his glasses as he rounded the immense desk in front of her. "Well, Ms. Sullivan, I can see that your credentials are absolutely exemplary, albeit rather ambitious in an extremely unorthodox manner, but this is journalism, isn't it?" he began, his voice giving away a trace of a British accent.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Grant," she replied with pride in her smile.

"So, I see here that you were the first to see this alleged "_Superman_" chap in action. Well, I imagine that must have been rather exciting," he observed in a casual manner as he rounded the desk once more. Leaning into his bent elbow, editor-in-chief Walter Grant propped his hip onto the desk and gave Chloe an examining eye.

"I'll come straight to the point, Ms. Sullivan. I do find this rather odd," he stated, lightly shaking the closed folder.

Eyeing the folder, Chloe could almost feel her leg begin to bounce again. She didn't know a great deal about Mr. Walter Grant. There hadn't been a real reason to learn a great deal about the competition in the past. In her eyes, _The Daily Planet_ had no real competition and _The Planet_ was the only paper she'd ever envisioned herself ever working for. Sitting up straight in her chair, Chloe cleared her throat. "Um, why is that, Mr. Grant?"

Mr. Grant glanced down at the flipped open file folder and casually thumbed through a couple of pages. "Well, I see here that you have a request…not an unusual request and bear in mind, I'm not saying _"no",_ but I wouldn't mind an explanation of sorts. I liked to be well informed in regards to my reporters as well as the rest of the world."

Now she really was nervous. Suddenly, she was ever so subtly reminded on what it was like to be on the other side of the interrogation. She cleared her throat again. "Well, you see, I would prefer to write under a pseudonym. I mean, let's face it, Gotham has quite the reputation and let's just say it wouldn't be the first time that I crawled onto the bad side of a rather prominent citizen."

Mr. Grant was silent for a moment, which didn't do much for Chloe's already frazzled nerves. A throaty chuckle from the editor gave Chloe a pause with humorous confusion.

"Well," he looked at her over the rims of his glasses. "Now I know you are good reporter," he finally said as he flashed an incredible debonair smile she hadn't thought possible on a man his age. "Very well, Ms. Sullivan, your request is granted. Welcome to the _Gotham Gazette_," he finished with an extended hand.

Chloe nearly heaved a sigh of relief, but started as Mr. Grant began to rise from his desk. "But there's just one more thing, sir."

"Yes?"

"I'd like to go over one minor detail of my employment and just between us"-- she waved a hand between the two of them—"I'd like to keep a few things under wraps."

Mr. Grant just stared at her for a moment. "Are you in the witness protection program, Ms. Sullivan? Because if I didn't know any better, I'd think you didn't want anyone to know that you're working for the Gotham Gazette."

Chloe thought her guts might actually dive to the floor. The Witness Protection Program had been an option, but Chloe had been too stubborn. The first time hadn't fared so well. Besides, she liked who she was, enjoyed the fact that simply being herself was helping her to make her dreams finally come true. To be someone else was not only a painful thought, but an insulting one at that.

This way she didn't have to change herself completely, just rewrite a few things to hopefully throw Lex off of her trail, but only if Mr. Grant was going to be as accommodating as she hoped that he could. She waited for a bit as he looked at her over the rims of his glasses in a questioning manner, rather like a principal would after asking a student who toilet-papered the Boy's locker room.

His eyes suddenly lit up with humorous wonder. "You must have really ruffled some feathers," he remarked. "Very well, though," he conceded easily as he walked out of his office with, once again, the inevitable slam.

Chloe only stared at the door. "You have no idea."

oOo

_'This__ i__s getting tiresome'_, thought Nurse Pollack as she padded her way towards the office of the new head of psychology and psychiatrist-in-residence at Arkham Asylum. With suddenly so many patients to care for, being secretary was not exactly under her job description.

Finding her destination, Nurse Pollack tapped the frosted glass of the office door.

No reply.

Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand to the door once more.

Still no reply.

The caller had gruffly informed that it was _"urgent"_ and that "_it would be in her best interest_" to retrieve the individual of interest. She'd just come from getting their newest patient _"comfortable"_ when the call had come in and she'd just happened by the nurses' station.

Finally, she took the liberty and cracked the door open. Poking her head just around the door frame, she found herself faced with only a manila folder.

"Sir?"

A mere grunt was all she heard from the other side of the folder.

"Sir, there is a gentleman on the phone for you," she replied with a twinge of edge in her voice.

"He said it was urgent."

"Was this perhaps after our newest patient was admitted?" he queried, his German accent giving the impression that Sigmund Freud might be on the other side. She nearly rolled her eyes.

"Yes, sir." She wasn't getting paid enough for this.

Placing the folder on his desk, he stared at Nurse Pollack through his bifocals. "Very well," he replied with a nod of dismissal in her direction.

She was more than happy to comply.

Without blinking, the doctor took the phone of hold. "Yes sir, Mr. Luthor. How can I help you?"

oOo

"Ugh, unbelievable," Chloe scoffed as she gazed out the taxi window. "This is Mr. Grant's idea of _'breaking me in?'_"

"Hey, it's not everyday the press is given a free pass to the Wayne estate," Ginny remarked as the city lights became fewer towards the outskirts of Gotham City. "I mean, I realize that you're new and all, but this is actually a great way to put yourself out there, journalistically speaking."

Chloe just glanced at Ginny out of the corner of her eye and couldn't help grinning in spite of it all. Walter had unceremoniously thrown the two women together on this particular jaunt. On the outside, Ginny appeared to be nothing more than a mousy little girl with a camera, but Chloe could see on the inside that Ginny would be willing to die for that same camera. She could easily see that the little woman was as much a fanatic of her career as Chloe was of her own. She couldn't help thinking the mousy look was a disguise: single-vested brown jacket topped with a thick scarf around the neck, brown hair twisted into a sloppy bun.

_'Good one'_, Chloe thought. Though the black-rimmed glasses were a bit much.

"I can think of a better way. I mean, can you imagine what could be happening out there right now"—she jerked a thumb towards the back glass to indicate the city—"and I'm supposed to write a scintillating article on the area's most overrated open house? I mean, didn't _he_ burn down the first one?"

"Wellll…," Ginny began, her tone taking an upward inflection of skepticism. "I wasn't there, but I heard he was suddenly rather rude to everyone, but I seriously doubt that he was so sloshed that he burned down a place like that, whether on purpose or even accidentally." Suddenly, Ginny's face lit up. "They've been working on the place for several months now. I can't wait to see how it turned out now that it's completed. I've been hearing that the architect designing the house uses influences--

"Of course, you would be more excited about this. You get to photograph Gotham's resident Vanderbilt," Chloe remarked sarcastically as she set an elbow on the edge of the window.

"Are you kidding? I'm ecstatic," Ginny proclaimed. "This whole project has been kept about as much under wraps as something of this scale can be. Think about it."

She only shrugged. She was thinking about it. If it was anything like Lex's mansion in Smallville, then she'd hardly be impressed.

Beyond _People_ magazine, Chloe didn't know any more than usual about this '_Bruce Wayne_' individual, but all that tabloid hoopla was more Lois' forte. Chloe knew just as much about him as the average Joe…or more pointedly…the average Jane. After having known Lex for as long as she had, it seemed that oversexed, egotistical billionaires weren't as catchy as they used to be. There were bigger and better stories to focus on than the state of a rich man's personal life.

Crap! Speaking of billionaires…

"So who of the billionaire elite is supposed to be at this thing?" Chloe tried to ask as nonchalantly as possible. If there was even a chance that Lex would show up to something like this, she'd have to make quite the hasty exit.

"Have no clue," Ginny muttered absently as she closely examined her camera. "You're the reporter, remember?"

"Great," Chloe mumbled with about as much enthusiasm of preparing for a beating and craned her head back onto the headrest. "Wake me when we get there," she mumbled.

Though she was hardly asleep, Chloe kept trying to make the best of this situation as possible. Her first thought had been to dig up a massive amount of dirt on this man. That'd knock him off his considerable high horse. However, as much fun as she was sure that it would be, digging up dirt on another billionaire it wasn't exactly high on her priority list. She had one already tailing her ass. She didn't need another one.

"Oh. My. God." was all she heard and exclaimed in such a way that implied something extraordinary was in the vicinity.

Chloe opened her eyes to find herself staring at a black wrought iron gate that looked as if it had been taken straight from a nobleman of questionable means in Transylvania.

What lay beyond was certainly a feast for the imagination.

Chloe marveled not so much at its size, but its structure. "Look, I know that Dracula's castle is back on the market, but did they deliver it over here stone by stone?"

Though it was dark, crenellated turrets were unmistakable to anyone that had even seen _Robin __Hood_Pointed arches of the outer wall could be seen shadowed by torches lit within. And if Chloe wasn't mistaken, she would very nearly swear that there were gargoyles perched strategically high above the grounds.

It certainly was going to put the '_Goth_' back in Gotham. For a fraction of a moment, she felt a slight tingle of excitement.

The taxi had pulled far enough to the surveillance speaker outside the gate where Ginny, in Chloe's opinion, over-enthusiastically declared that the Gotham Gazette had arrived. Chloe could only roll her eyes and gird herself in preparation for the incredibly boring evening to come.

Schmoozing guests and brownnosing the rich was hardly a time well had.

oOo


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: Still flying by the seat of my pants, y'all. Help me Ash!_

Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, DC comics, characters thereof, etc.

oOo

The moment Chloe entered the grand foyer; she was immediately overcome with sickness in her gut, but still couldn't stop herself from gaping openly at the opulent surroundings.

"Hmm," Ginny mused casually from behind her. "Doesn't seem as big as the last one."

Chloe couldn't help turning a skeptical gaze on the young photographer. "Doesn't seem…? I thought Versailles was in France?"

A predictable look of sarcasm overcame Ginny. "Heh-heh, funny. C'mon, let's go find out the protocol," she said as he gently took her by the elbow.

"Protocol?" she queried as Ginny bobbed and weaved his way through the couple hundred guests and staff.

"Yeah, Walt said the invitation strictly instructed for all reporters and photographers to meet in The Gallery at eight o'clock to find out where we are permitted to go and not go. Or in my case, what we can and cannot photograph. So on and so forth."

Whether Ginny was aware of it or not, she certainly didn't realize that the words "_could not go_" had just immediately given Chloe the proverbial green light to go snooping where she ought not to go snooping.

oOo

"So when are we gonna start movin' into Falcone's territory?" a bulky man asked just as lazily as he looked, comfortably kicked back into a plush leather seat. "I'm itchin' to get movin'. I mean, look at me, I'm turning to mush," he added with a pat to his stomach to emphasize the monumental bounce of his silken covered gut.

"Don't be stupid, Angelo," stated tall, slim gentleman that had firmly placed himself by the window, cigarette in hand as he looked out over the city. "Rumors are all over that Falcone is still out there."

"Yeah, but he ain't got all his marbles, Jack," Angelo replied, circling his finger around his temple. "Right now, Falcone ain't got nobody with enough stones to take over his organization. I say the Boss should move in now while the gettin is good."

"And I fully intend to," came a smooth voice from the shadows within the immense penthouse suite in Gotham's notorious part of town. "The situation needs to be handled delicately," he added as he rounded his large desk, carved mahogany, of course.

"But Boss," Angelo began. "Falcone's organization won't know what hit 'em," he argued as he struggled clumsily to pull himself into an upright position.

"We aren't the only ones with our eyes on the prize," 'Boss' Maroni remarked as he settled down.

Sal Maroni knew that Falcone's territory was ripe for the picking. Of course, he could go in there with guns blazing, but he preferred to keep his hands just as clean as possible. No one else had moved in yet, but he knew the police were expecting him to make a move. A few months ago, Maroni wouldn't have had to worry about the cops. Still didn't for a few of them. But suddenly the bulk of the Force was suddenly scared straight since the incident with Falcone. Word had gotten out that some giant bat had been seen prowling the streets prior to the fiasco that had Gotham in an absolute uproar. But Maroni didn't buy the rantings of a bunch of insane vagrants. He'd stopped believing in monsters a long time ago.

Thus far, he was only keeping his plans known to only his enforcer, Jack Morgan and his bumbling fat accomplice, Danny Angelo. Angelo was a yutz, but he seemed to handle the computer skill that the older part of his organization lacked.

"Which is precisely why the two of you will keep your involvement to a minimum until I say otherwise," he finished as he began sorting through papers.

"Aw c'mon Boss, you gotta be jokin' right?" Angelo remarked incredulously.

"Hmm, right up my alley," a strange high pitch remarked from within the shadows.

Angelo turned to the sound, his eyes straining into the shadows. At first, he thought his eyes couldn't be seeing right when a pasty-white face emerged through the darkness. His first thought was that the Boss had hired some strange kid, but the closer the man got he…was he wearing red?..did he look like…?

"A clown, Boss?" Angelo remarked stupidly followed by raucous laughter. "And it ain't even my birthday!"

"Angelo," Maroni warned from behind him.

"You know, scungilli for brains," the strange man began as he settled himself before Angelo, nearly a head taller than the large man. "Doesn't expecting the unexpected make the unexpected become the expected?"

"Huh?" was Angelo's only reply.

"That's what I thought."

"Okay, knock it off," Maroni remarked quickly. "Okay…er…what exactly do I call you?"

A big red smile spread across the strange man's white face. "Allow me to give you my card," he said as he strode towards the desk and casually flipped a card in Maroni's direction.

Looking down, Maroni's brows furrowed. "This is a playing card," he remarked as he held aloft the painted jester.

"So," the man began, placing his palms on the desk and leaning in Maroni's direction. "Let's play."

oOo

After a few b/s announcements were made, Chloe decided that this was an incredible waste of her journalist's skills. There were well over a hundred schmoozers attending this ridiculous soiree for the most overblown open house in the history of real estate. Ginny was kept ecstatically busy snapping photos of the immense dining hall.

Despite having been within the confines of architectural opulence, Chloe couldn't help feeling a bit awestruck as she gazed over the Banquet Hall. She was fairly certain that the immense oak dining table was at least the length of a football field with three feet tall flower arrangements comprised of mainly red roses and white lilies adorning the middle and ends. Centuries old tapestries adorned the walls, ancient chandeliers casting the room in a romantic glow worthy of the medieval age.

Chloe casually walked around the room, stopping to appreciate the triple fireplaces that could easily fit half of the guests inside and casually reaching up to gently trace an intricately carved scene from a part of Classical civilization.

"Remarkable, isn't it?" she heard a voice from just behind her. "A depiction of Persephone stolen away by the Greek god Hades," he remarked as he traced a finger around the engraved chariot containing the captor and his hostage, though she didn't quite look like one or so Chloe thought as this '_Persephone'_ held onto her captor around the waist.

She quickly snatched her hand away and turned to the individual speaking. "I'm afraid I'm not completely up to par on my Greek mythology. But yes, very nice," Chloe replied with a corresponding nod.

The older gentleman only smiled as he leaned towards her. "A little out of place for all this, isn't it?" he added low as he looked around the room for indication.

Chloe chuckled lightly. "I was just going to ask when "_His Majesty_" was going arrive," she replied, feeling very comfortable with the gentleman before her and unceremoniously thrust a hand out. "C.G., with the Gotham Gazette."

Chloe watched as a flicker of uncertainty passed over the man's face, but quickly recovered it with a smile and clasped her hand firmly and she hoped her own wasn't a mirror image. She felt that giving out her first two initials was a way of keeping a part of herself without completely blowing her cover.

"Lucius Fox," he returned, the corners of his eyes crinkling a bit.

"The CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Lucius Fox?" she responded, turning her head slightly to give him a skeptical look out of the corner of her eye. "Looking to see where all the money's going?" she added giving the room a quick once-over with a single nod.

Lucius released her hand with a hearty laugh. "Yes, it does seem a bit…"

"Exorbitant…Pretentious…Compensating?" Chloe supplied with an exaggerated blasé tone.

Lucius simply eyed the blonde with a cautious glance albeit a humorous one. "I would say…eccentric."

"I'm not sure that's better," Chloe replied, with a quirk in her smile.

"I suppose not," Lucius chuckled as he took a more casual, yet professional stance as he set himself at ease, hands clasped in front. "So are you new with Gotham Gazette?"

Chloe simply gave an absent nod as she turned to look over the crowd of people beginning to gather within the Hall.

"How long have you been in Gotham?" Lucius continued, as casually as he could manage.

Chloe turned a wary glance towards the man. She wasn't fooled for a second. "Do I smell an interview, Mr. Fox?"

Lucius simply gave an uneasy smile. "Just curious," he replied.

Chloe immediately felt guilty for her abrupt attitude. She couldn't help smiling at the irony. Here she was, quite possibly the most meddlesome reporter in the entire country, and she was balking at one innocent question. "Forgive me, Mr. Fox. I didn't mean to offend you." She took a deep breath and exhaled. "It can be unfamiliar territory on the other side of the tape recorder."

"Quite all right," he replied in good nature.

"Well, all I can tell you is that I'm simply another working Jane just trying to keep my head above water," she informed hoping to downplay herself as much as possible. No need to call an unnecessary attention to herself. "Besides, I like a challenge," she winked.

Silence ensued and Lucius couldn't help marveling at that fact. "Well, Ms….uh, C.G., but aren't you a reporter? I rather thought that you'd have a few questions."

Chloe didn't even flinch. "You're Lucius Fox. You were born in the continental United States, resided briefly in Paris until you were hired by Thomas Wayne to work as a business manager for Wayne Enterprises and demoted by previous CEO of Wayne Enterprises Earle for failed projects. Wayne Enterprises was foundering on the brink of bankruptcy when Bruce Wayne gained the larger percentage of shares and promoted you to current CEO. As CEO, you've brought the famed _"Midas Touch"_ turning Wayne Enterprises into one of the most successful conglomerates in the world."

Lucius only blinked.

Chloe glanced up at him for a moment. "Did I forget anything?" she asked in good nature.

He returned her smile. "No, I say that's just about it. I was thinking more along the lines about our host, but I say you've done your homework."

"I know enough to get by," Chloe muttered into an upturned flute of champagne. It was true. She'd looked into Wayne Enterprises since before coming to Gotham. It almost seemed like Metropolis' equivalent to Luthorcorp, so she wanted to be nearly as on top of Gotham's corporate world as possible.

However, that's as far as she really got. Bruce Wayne seemed to be just another spoiled young billionaire hardly worth the time that could've been better spent on finding a real story in a city full of them.

Lucius was a bit puzzled by this particular young lady's attitude and a reporter no less. Any newspaper, tabloid magazine, scandal sheet in the world would be jumping at the opportunity to view the billionaire bachelor in his newly constructed domicile. This young woman acted as though she were covering a seminar on Chinese economics.

Lucius managed a gentle clearing of the throat before he began again. "Is there a particular individual you are looking for?" he finally asked.

He almost hit the nail on the head and Chloe was unable to hide the uneasy paralyzing feeling that quickly swept through her whole body.

_'Get it together, Sullivan,'_ she mentally drilled herself before she gave the man pause to wonder.

Turning a quickly with a smile, "I'm just here for the scenery," she replied nonchalant and rolled her eyes over the room.

Lucius simply smiled and sipped on his champagne.

This would prove to be interesting.

oOo

The ever anxious clack of Chloe's heels echoed down the hallway practically announced _"I'm snooping__"_ to the world. Of course, she wasn't supposed to be in this part of the house, but that had never stopped her before. If Mr. Grant wanted a story, where was the sense in getting only half the story? For an open house, why simply close off one wing? Unless they were _"His Excellency's__"_ private quarters, but what would one man need with an entire wing of a house?

Chloe stopped dead in the middle of the hallway from the sudden revelation of the sheer stupidity of the question itself.

He was a billionaire.

It was almost like asking why a billionaire has to have fifty different cars. Lex was a prime example. Strictly luxury through the business week and mix 'n 'match between sport and classic during the holidays and special occasions.

_'And limos to do his damn dirty work'_, she thought angrily as the pieces of the night she'd been abducted had wormed there way back in through broken dreams and sudden flashes.

An instant disdain for all that implied a ridiculously rich lifestyle quickly brought Chloe out of her thoughts with a quick shake of her head. She quickly turned to see if anyone had come upon her, but the vast open hallway revealed nothing more than the quiet hum of music echoing from the Great Hall.

A quick about-face and Chloe was ready to run back to the Banquet Hall, make the small talk, suffer through the schmooze and go home. As she took one step, Chloe found her feet rooted firmly to the floor.

There it was.

The nudge of curiosity.

Beckoning from her right were ornately carved double doors that screamed for Chloe to see what was on the other side. She bit her lip in nervous uncertain anticipation.

"Jimmy Hoffa…?" she queried as she took one step back. "Lost fortune of the Freemasons…?" turning on her heel to face the doors. She cringed for a moment as she thought of what else could be behind those doors. "A crazy wife…?"

She happened to catch _"Jane Eyre"_ on _TCM_ the other night.

"I shouldn't be doing this," Chloe chastised herself even as she watched her hands reach up to the antiqued bronze door handles. Taking one last look down the hallway she pushed them open.

Chloe stood stock still as one of the largest personal libraries she'd ever seen became revealed. Not even Lex's library was anything like this one, in size or grandeur.

Chloe's feet began moving of their own accord as she was slowly pulled inside as if Madame Curiosity were leading her by the hand.

Volumes and volumes of books gleamed at her from their carved walnut confines that began on the floor and rose all the way to the ceiling which was adorned with an artistic interpretation of clouds and cherubs.

A small wrought iron staircase led up to second level in order to reach the rest of the bookshelves. That seemed to begin from the black marble fireplace and wrapped around the room to the other side where there was yet another carved depiction.

"Gee, where's Lurch to give me the grand tour?" Chloe murmured with a wry twist of sarcasm. Examining the room, Chloe noted a peculiar box laying on a small end table. She started to reach out a hand to open it, but pulled back suddenly. "_Thing _might reach out and grab me," she muttered.

Speaking of the Addams family, Chloe turned her focus back on the shelves of books. "If the pull of one book could lead to Addams family fortune…," she muttered, slowly closing in on one section of the library. "I wonder…"

Sure she couldn't go through _all _of them, but it wouldn't hurt to fill her time with some lingering sleuthing by pulling at peculiar titles, most of them she'd been forced to read in high school and college, others she actually enjoyed reading on occasion. Besides, just the sheer thrill of possibly finding an actual hidden door within the bookshelves was more exciting than finding any sort of fortune.

After running across several classics, Chloe stumbled across _"__Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde__"_ by _Robert Louis Stevenson_. She briefly recalled writing a paper in her Psych class in college comparing the attitudes of clinical bipolar disorder with the literary adaptation of the time.

Seemed interesting at the time given all the off-the-wall things she'd personally witnessed. But for a moment, Chloe frowned in concentration. Had she simply been intrigued by its dark context or was she was really trying to rationalize the characters for fear of becoming one herself?

However, seeing the book Chloe couldn't prevent a smile as she thought of how often she referred to Clark as that particular illustration of split personalities.

Just when she was about to pull that particular book.

"Find what you're looking for?"

Chloe whipped around so fast that she bumped an unsuspecting Tiffany lamp with her elbow. She grappled rather clumsily with the heavy lamp where it promptly overpowered her ability and landed on the floor in an extremely loud echoing crash.

Chloe completely froze, hands poised in mid-air as she did a full body cringe. For just a beat, she simply stood motionless in an all consuming '_Stooge__' _moment.

Sheepishly, she ever-so-slightly turned her head in the vain hope that whomever had been standing there was now gone.

No.

As a matter of fact, the particular individual was grinning and wiggling his fingers in a patronizing little wave.

"Ohmigod," Chloe said quickly, throwing her face in her hands. "Maybe if I clean it up real quick they'll never know it's missing," she added, suddenly dropping to the floor and began picking up the larger pieces.

"Oh, somehow I doubt that," the man chuckled as he casually sauntered over to her and knelt down.

At first, Chloe didn't regard him, but kept picking up the mess. "Maybe if I hurry I…" she trailed off as she swept her bangs from her eyes and looked up at the man. "Ohmigod," she reiterated, but with a more regrettable tone.

Very quickly, she stood and stared down at him in disbelief. "I can't believe I didn't notice before. You're the one everyone has been waiting for, Mr. Wayne."

He snorted with a sense of irony. "Apparently."

Chloe suddenly was overcome with mortification. "Look, I'm so sorry about the lamp. I'm sure I can pay—"

"Don't worry about it," he interrupted quickly as he stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. His tone sounded benign, but his dark gaze was hard and unblinking.

Suddenly, something about this man came across as very abrasive. Chloe cocked her head to the side and immediately became defensive. "No, I want to make it right."

"Make what right?" he queried as he pretended to scratch an imaginary itch on the side of his head. "The snooping part or breaking the lamp?" he managed to chuckle with a hint of cynicism.

Chloe crossed her arms. "I got lost on my way to the ladies' room," she countered. It wasn't a complete lie. She was feeling a bit of a tingle.

His eyebrows shot up as his mouth made an '_O'_. "And that's how you ended up here?" he said with a punctuated downward point of a finger to indicate the room.

"Yeah," she shot back quickly.

Silence ensued as the two simply stared at each other from across the room. Well, Chloe glared at the billionaire while he simply looked at her in a knowing manner as if he'd just caught a small child with her hand in the cookie jar.

Finally, Chloe threw up her hands. "You know what, I'm not doing this," she muttered. She turned and began walking out of the room.

"Uh, to whom would I be sending the bill?" he called just as she reached the doors.

Chloe didn't even stop. "Bite my ass, Rochester," she tossed over her shoulder, completely ignoring the amused smirk on the billionaire's face.

oOo


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: Okay, boys and girls. The seat of my pants have taken flight. This particular chapter is merely a continuation of the introduction of Bruce and Chloe. Hope it's okay. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, DC Universe, characters,etc. _

oOo

Completely mortified, Chloe stood as far to the back of the crowd gathered in the Great Hall as Ginny would allow. Truth be told, she'd actually tried to persuade Ginny to leave. Ginny's mouth promptly dropped at the request and segued immediately into a shock-induced tirade.

_"Are you serious? This is the Gotham Gazette's biggest break! It's _my _biggest break! Do you have any idea the level of disdain that Bruce Wayne has for the press regarding anything of his personal life? Were you born yesterday? I don't understand, what would make you want to…"_

Chloe kept nibbling on her lower lip and trying to focus anywhere but on Ginny's glasses that seemed to keep getting closer the louder she whispered. But immediately became a bit more nervous once Ginny abruptly stopped, snapped her mouth shut for a beat and straightened with a sense of realization.

"No way," she declared. "Are you kidding me?" she added with an accusatory tone.

Chloe continued to nibble on her lip.

"I don't believe this," Ginny remarked in a dangerously low voice. "You've been in Gotham for only days. We've only been _here _for an hour and now our chances have gone the way of the Tidy Bowl Man!"

"I didn't screw up anything," Chloe tried to defend herself. "Look, let's just do what we came here to do and get out of here."

"You think he'll give you an interview now?" Ginny was incredulous. She didn't know C.G. well and though she didn't have the whole story, Ginny just knew that the guest of honor had been involved.

"Hey, you know what? I really don't care," Chloe shot out with more heat than she intended. "He could tell me that he eats Count Chocula before his morning jog and I couldn't care less. Our success doesn't depend on an interview from the Grand Lord of the Manor. It's merely a bonus," she made sure to point out. "You're here to snap pictures. I'm here to remark on the _Who's Who_ of Gotham and this overblown house."

"I hope you're right," Ginny remarked with a tinge uncertainty, her eyes wondering the Hall.

Suddenly, the crowd within the Hall began to gather excitedly towards the Grand Staircase.

Chloe could hardly see for all the overly excited group of females that suddenly shoved and cloistered their way to the bottom of the red velvet stairs, but managed to spy through the sea of jewels and over-the-top hair-do's the awaited host descend the stairway.

A strange knot in the pit of her stomach began to grow and Chloe realized she hadn't been struck by such nervousness since high school. All the while watching him smile and wave at a select few, Chloe kept telling herself that there was nothing to worry about. He hadn't called the cops. He certainly wouldn't haul her before the entire crowd and announce what she'd done.

_'Except maybe as a warning to other journalists,'_ came the unexpected thought.

Bruce then began to wave down the boisterous chattering of the guests and cleared his throat.

"First of all, I'd like thank all of you for coming tonight," he began. "Uh, I have a little impromptu surprise for all of you this evening. I and my affiliates will be conducting a silent auction with all proceeds going to the Children's Hospital in Gotham."

His announcement was followed by a raucous round of applause.

"And I want to assure you there will be no drunken-induced arson to close the evening," he added.

Mild laughter was his response.

"So feel free to schmooze, mingle, and definitely bid," he offered with a gracious open-handed gesture. "I know that many of the press are here, so if anyone has any questions…

Hands shot up from all around the room.

Bruce began picking them one-by-one.

"Max, from _The Gotham Globe_," the reporter called out. "Sir, was the fire intentional?"

"Uh, no. The house, as all of you know, was well over a hundred years old. There was some faulty wiring, the wrong spark…well, you get the idea."

Bruce continued to scan over the crowd with searching eyes. Chloe was ever-so-subtly ducking her head and attempting to inch her way behind a quite large gentleman. As far as he knew, she was just another guest.

"I see you, Gail," Bruce stated with a smile.

Chloe's head swung to the right. A petite brunette that Chloe recognized from _Entertainment News_. The woman may be small, but she was certainly tenacious. "Word has it that you were very abrupt that night. Have you become an anti-celebrity?"

Chloe shot a strange look at the reporter for that question.

Bruce seemed to take it in stride with a smile. "Anti-celebrity, huh? Wow that's a new one. I'm not sure how to answer that. But in regards to my terribly rude behavior, words cannot express or explain. I can only hope all of you can accept my humble apology."

"Did it have anything to do with your parents? Is this your way of stepping out of your father's shadow?"

Chloe found herself quizzical and a little perturbed at that question. For a fleeting moment, Bruce lost his guarded expression, but quickly recovered.

"My father was a beloved citizen of Gotham. No one, more than myself, is saddened that such a particular legacy should be lost," he replied, his tone dropping a notch.

Silence engulfed the room as if to pay homage to the lost Dr. Thomas Wayne, but the respectful silence quickly became an awkward one.

A quick clearing of the throat and all eyes were back on Bruce. "I believe that _The Gazette_ is here," Bruce announced as he continued to search over the immense crowd.

Before she could make a mad dash for the door like she so badly wanted, Chloe practically cringed as she slowly came out into the open. One quick poke to the back and Chloe was suddenly unceremoniously shoved from behind by an overly zealous Ginny to the front of the crowd.

Keeping a sharp eye on the host, Chloe noted a fleeting expression of surprise on his face. She enjoyed a quick feeling of irony at his realization, but was followed closely with a sense of dread. She was certain he now knew that he'd caught a reporter in his personal library. Suddenly she felt no better than any other paparazzi chasing down a celebrity.

As if he should be so lucky…

His smug expression and casual body language bespoke of a certain arrogance from a moment ago in the library. Of course, she'd been snooping, yet she felt that this man had somehow reduced her to a three-year old caught doing a _"__no-no__"_ Her aggravation increased and Chloe found that her reticence in meeting him again face-to-face in front of everyone had dissipated.

"C.G., with _The Gotham Gazette_," she introduced strongly and thrust a hand out while clicking _record _on her hand-held recorder with the other.

Bruce gave Chloe a very conscientious once over. "Business casual?" he asked, referring to her attire: a simple white button-down blouse and black skirt with jacket to match.

Chloe flinched slightly with a furrowed brow. "I am on the job," she informed pointedly.

"At any rate," he began."I see _The Gazette_ has stepped up their game," he replied smoothly as he enveloped her extended hand, easily turning her wrist to lay a kiss on the back. "Attractive journalists have been hard to come by."

Chloe tried to ignore the sudden jolt that seemed to travel the entire length of her arm and quickly snatched her hand out of his grasp. "Yes, we are a dying species," she replied dismissively with a bright smile full of sarcasm.

"Shall we?" he offered with a wave of his hand towards a more intimate area of the Hall for a personal interview.

Without a word, Chloe allowed him to escort her to a sitting area in the corner.

Bruce clasped his hands together, a look of uncertainty passed briefly across his face and he leaned towards Chloe inquisitively. "I imagine that _The Gazette_ has few questions," he prompted with a rolling wave of his hand in her direction.

She cocked her head to the side and nearly sneered at the implication of his gesture. She was hardly reticent and quickly raised the recorder between them. "So what exactly is the purpose of all this?" she asked, waving the recorder around the room.

Bruce quickly straightened to take on serious stance. "Well, originally the idea was suggested by my P.R. as a gesture of good will due to the, uh"—he cleared his throat—"events earlier this year. It was my idea to turn it into a private fundraiser with all donations and proceeds going to the Children's Hospital and additionally, a sumptuous donation to the Gotham City Fire Department. "

"The Gotham City Fire Department," Chloe repeated with an eyebrow raise and nod of the head. "I suppose a donation is better than the typical celebrity apology," she added with a sardonic smile.

Surprisingly, Bruce seemed to take her quip in stride. Leaning in conspiratorially, he muttered, "Rehab's not exactly my style."

Chloe pretended to nod in understanding while slowly inching the recorder as close as she could get it on that last remark.

Bruce merely chuckled as he straightened once more. "I suppose you thought this was some trumped up housewarming party, huh?"

Chloe brows rose considerably for a sliver of a moment, but managed to salvage the sudden nervous laugh bubbling inside. Instead she decided to play the dumb blonde. "Good one!" she chuckled, with a point in his direction.

Sobering quickly, she caught his eyes with intent. "So, as one of the more prominent citizens in Gotham, do you have any plans for the city?" she asked, eyeing him closely. "Or is jet-setting a permanent hobby?"

Bruce didn't so much as blink and Chloe was sure his eyes darkened at the implication of her tone. "I'm not aware of any long term plans for the moment, if that's what you're asking. However, I've heard talk that Wayne Enterprises is working on a few projects that could assist the city in the areas needed the most."

Before Chloe could address exactly what his influence could do for the struggling city, an older gentleman seemed to appear from out of nowhere from behind Bruce. Neatly dressed in tails carrying a serving tray, the older man moved efficiently with nothing out of place. He managed a look a Chloe and acknowledged her with a nod.

"Pardon me, miss," he apologized as he leaned into Bruce's ear. "I'm sorry, sir, but I've just received word that Mr. Luthor will not be able to attend tonight due to unforeseen circumstances and Mr. Queen has sent his apologies, but a sizable donation to make up for his absence."

Bruce listened and nodded. "Thank you, Alfred," he replied low and clapped Alfred on the shoulder. As the butler walked away, Bruce turned his eye back on Chloe. "You were saying…"

Chloe was sure he intended on burning a hole right through her with his gaze, but she refused to be intimidated by this man. "So there's nothing that you're overseeing personally?" she nearly bit out with the force she gathered in refusing to back down.

He merely shook his head in response. "I'm afraid that I have other obligations at the moment," he replied low.

"Yes, I imagine globetrotting has its drawbacks," she finished and snapped the recorder off. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Wayne," she finished and turned on her heel, completely disregarding his unwavering gaze as she moved in and out of the crowd to find the nearest exit out of the place.

oOo

Chloe fought her way through the crowd of diamonds and white ties. Her shoulders hunched in aggravation, each step clacking a little louder than the last. She wasn't certain which was better to concentrate on: dodging Lex or how infuriated she was towards another billionaire.

Suddenly she turned abruptly to face Ginny, who hadn't said a word since they began traversing their way out of the palatial dwelling.

"You're awfully quiet," Chloe remarked with a suspicious brow.

Ginny only shrugged. "If you want to flush your career down the crapper, there is nothing I can do about it. I'm just a photographer and I got my pictures," she added, holding up her camera and giving it a little shake.

"No flies on you, huh?" Chloe replied.

Ginny only replied with another shrug of the shoulders and brushed by Chloe, "See you outside."

On her way out, Chloe passed by a large table laid out with the many different items and options on which many of the guests could place a bid.

"Hmm," she hummed to herself as she perused the offers. "Rooftop dinner for two at Wayne Towers, Weekend getaway to the Swiss Alps, wow," she muttered to herself. "Four-day cruise in the Bahamas, a diamond necklace from Cartier, and…oh you've got to be kidding me."

Chloe picked up the page that, thus far, had the most bids placed. "A private dinner with Bruce Wayne," she read aloud.

"Excuse me, miss," came the sound of British accent.

Chloe nearly leapt out of her shoes and turned towards the smiling eyes of the gentleman she'd seen earlier and she was completely taken aback for moment. "Uh, yeah. Can I help you?"

"Well, actually, I was wondering if I could help you?" he inquired. "You seem a bit…"

"Frazzed?"

"I would say, flustered," he substituted gently.

"Yeah, you could say," Chloe remarked as she suddenly leaned into her right foot, only to begin tapping her left.

Alfred pretended not to notice her restlessness. "Placing a bid, miss?" Alfred nodded to the paper still in her hands.

With a sarcastic glance at the page, Chloe set it down. "I'd rather give straight to the Children's Hospital," she replied simply. "No middle man."

Alfred was a little taken aback. "Well then, perhaps, I could get you something," he offered with a gentle smile.

"Oh, wow, that would be really nice," she began. "But I believe we're going to cut out early," she added with a scrunched up look of apology.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked in surprise, his expression a hint of dismay. "You _are_ a reporter, aren't you?"

Chloe smiled and closed her eyes for a moment. "Yeah," she replied graciously. "No offense, but I'm more interested in what's going on out there"—throwing a thumb towards the door—"than what's going on in here."

"Well, that's very refreshing," Alfred remarked with a yet another kindly smile. "I should say that I may actually look forward to retrieving the morning paper."

Chloe was unexpectedly overcome. "Well, I hope I don't disappoint."

"I should think not," he replied warmly. "Have a good evening, Miss."

Chloe felt genuinely touched by the older gentleman's kindliness. "You too," she said as she absently began towards the door. "Don't work too hard!" she called.

"Never!" he replied with grin, perhaps a little too loudly that drew a few odd looks. Sheepishly, Alfred turned away towards the bidding table and picked up the paper that the young lady had sneered at.

With a smile, he simply replaced the item.

Interesting.

oOo


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: This one is rather short...and maybe even pointless to a degree, but it's just a bit of fun for me. _

_Disclaimer: Don't own DC, Smallville, the like, etc. _

oOo

Chloe stood outside waiting for a cab. Tossing her scarf around her neck to ward off the cold, Chloe turned back for a moment and gazed at the enormous mansion for a moment, the spotlights casting a luminous glow onto the gothic manor.

There it was again.

That nudge.

For whatever else she thought of Mr. Bruce Wayne, Chloe couldn't deny that the mansion itself seemed to have an allure that even _she _couldn't ignore. It seemed to bring out all those old mysteries and Gothic novels . Closing her eyes, she tried to push away the curiosity that was beginning to gnaw at her. There was too much going on in the world for her to waste her interest on yet another self-serving billionaire.

"Hey!" Ginny shouted.

Chloe open her eyes and turned to see a bundled Ginny ensconced within the cab that she hadn't even heard pull in front of her.

"You comin' or not?" her voice more than exasperated.

With a renewed sense of excitement, Chloe started towards the cab, only to feel her feet falter for a moment. A seed of frustration compelled her to make the extra effort to push her feet where curiosity was trying to plant them and eventually managed to make her way into the cab.

"Where to?" the cabbie asked.

"Twenty-first and Broad," Ginny replied as she fastened her belt.

"What about you, lady?" he directed towards Chloe, looking at her in the rearview.

Chloe's first indication was to say to take her straight home, but forcing her gaze out towards the dark shadows of the city, she was suddenly struck by a wisp of inspiration.

"It's still early. If you got the time, just give me a tour through town," she replied as she buckled her seatbelt.

Ginny's head whipped around so fast, Chloe was sure the poor girl would need a chiropractor.

"Are you crazy?" Ginny whispered forcefully.

"I got the time, if you got the dime," the cabbie replied.

"Unbelievable!" Ginny remarked. "First, you tank your interview with Gotham's crowned prince and now you want to be-bop around town. At night! …in a cab!"

Only Chloe noticed the cab driver's sneer of derision in Ginny's direction. "So, come with me," Chloe encouraged, her thrill of the mystery desperately wanting a partner in crime, so to speak. "With your camera and—"

"Your snooping?" Ginny supplied.

Chloe sighed, allowing her lids to flutter in tired exasperation. "Yeah," she conceded quickly, but renewed her vigor. "But think about it! Can you imagine what we might find out there?"

Ginny's expression immediately ruled out any notion that she was entertaining the idea. "Now I know you're certifiable," she finally said as the cab slowly pulled away from the Wayne estate.

oOo

Sitting in solitude, Bruce perched his chin on his fist and stared intently at the barrage of screens before him. Nothing but stills of the blonde he'd found snooping in his library graced each screen at different angles in different rooms of the mansion.

"Pardon me, sir," echoed Alfred's voice from behind.

Bruce turned to see Alfred hold aloft his serving tray in emphasis. "I thought, perhaps, coffee was in order since you don't seem to be retiring for the night any time soon. And some more sleuthing software has come for you, compliments of Mr. Lucius I presume," he remarked low as he set the tray down.

"Thank you, Alfred." Without another word, Bruce turned back to the screens, staring with contemplation, his gaze unwavering.

"Sir, might it be premature to say that I don't believe she's your type," Alfred remarked dryly as he placed a hot mug by Bruce's elbow.

Bruce absently picked up the filled mug and sipped the revitalizing liquid. "I don't believe that's quite fair, Alfred," he replied nonchalantly.

"No?" Alfred questioned with a wry raise of his brows. Leaning over Bruce's shoulder, Alfred punched a button.

_"Bite my ass, Rochester,__"_ was the scene that resounded throughout the cave followed by the inevitable sound of the door slamming as the blonde exited the screen.

Bruce merely turned a dark glare up towards his grinning butler.

"I think that speaks for itself," he said, still smiling. Oh, how enjoyed goading the boy now and then.

Bruce simply turned back towards the screens, quickly switching to another view. "Don't you have something you could be doing, Alfred?"

Only a light chuckle and an "_Of course, sir,"_ and Alfred had left Bruce alone with the numerous images of the blonde. Nine out of ten images showed her with nothing but looks of cynicism on her lovely face.

He pulled up the clip from the Banquet hall. This one he'd watched over and over, watching her carefully, and looking for any misstep, anything that would tell him who she really was and what she was really doing in Gotham.

Lucius was smiling. _"No, I say that's just about it. I was thinking more along the lines about our host, but I say you've done your homework."_

_"I know en__ough to get by," Chloe muttered, looking away. _

Bruce unconsciously frowned at her disinterested tone.

Despite her nonchalance and petty cynicism, Bruce had a felt that there was more to this "_working Jane_" than met the eye. If that were true, he wouldn't have found her lurking in his library that happened to be dangerously close to his personal quarters and his newest edition to the Wayne estate in which he now occupied.

It wasn't the surprise of finding any sort of paparazzi trying to delve into his personal life. They were attempting it all the time. However, the fact that this particular reporter insisted on putting up an impartial front was found snooping through a very restricted area of his house gave cause for suspicion.

Should a reporter find anything to link his growing mysterious night activities in Gotham…

Turning back to the screens, Bruce continued to examine the moment in the dining hall with Lucius. At first glance, her appearance seemed benign, but Bruce took a closer look. Her eyes were lifted, ever-so-slightly with a sense of trepidation; her arms seemed to be clinched too tight about her middle, a white-knuckle hold on her champagne glass.

"Who are you?" he muttered to screen, his brain racing for any leads. "And what are you doing in Gotham?"

A hint of shuffling could be heard behind him.

"Alfred?"

"Yes, sir," he replied.

"When do you suppose—"

"She left the party early sir," Alfred answered before Bruce could finish the question. "As a matter of fact, she remarked on how she was more interested in the rest of the world than you're little, mundane party."

He turned with a suspicious look. "She said that or you said that?" Bruce questioned with a raise of his left brow.

"Paraphrasing, sir," Alfred replied in his most professional tone.

Turning suddenly, Bruce called out. "Don't wait up for me."

Alfred turned to see that he was already gone. "I never do."

oOo

"All right lady, we've been everywhere in Gotham that I know to go," the cabbie informed as he drove down the main drag for the sixth time. "I don't know what you think you're looking for."

Chloe frowned. "I'm not sure I know either." For this city to be so notorious for it's crime and shady activity, its night life wasn't completely unlike Smallville on a Friday night.

She hadn't seen a thing. Not a mugging, no purse-snatching. Hell, one scruffy looking man with a worn coat actually placed his gum into a nearby trash can instead spitting it onto the curb. Then it occurred to her.

There was one more place that was the most notorious area of the city in which the cabbie hadn't taken and for good reason.

"Gotta start somewhere," she muttered to herself and found her voice edged with uncertainty. She looked up to see the cab looking at her for an answer while they were stopped a red light. "Take me to Fourteenth Street," she finally said.

A disturbing silence gave Chloe cause to avert her eyes straight to the rearview mirror. She found the cabbie was looking at her with warning in his eyes.

"Lady, do you have any idea—

Chloe nodded nonsensically. "I'm well aware," she replied in like kind.

The cabbie centered his eyes on the road in front of him. "All right," he sighed. "It's your ass."

oOo

_Author's Note: Sorry if it reads as if it was rushed, but I really wanted something out there for in the meantime. Hopefully I can get this story going somewhere._


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's Note**: Hey folks! Long time, no update. Here's...something. I can't guarantee that it flows well at all. I'm not used to trying to write a lot of action, but it would seem the story called for it, so here it is, such as it is. My muse wasn't very good to me, but hopefully it'll get better as time goes on. _

_**Disclaimer**: I don't own any DC characters, storylines, etc. _

oOo

Chloe knew she was in the soup the moment the cabbie laughed when she told him to come back for her in an hour.

Gazing out from the road along the bay area of Gotham, Chloe thrust her hands in her coat pockets and examined her surroundings closely from deep within the shadows. She'd done as much needed research on the "_Narrows_" while still in Metropolis after having come across a few articles featuring Metropolis' equivalent of _Suicide Slums_.

If _Suicide Slums_ could have produced someone like Lionel Luthor…

Chloe took in her surroundings once more.

So this was "_The Narrows_"…at night. She grimaced.

In the dark it seemed like any other back alley in any other city. There was the strategically broken streetlight to mask whatever possible dirty dealings could be taking place. A blended concoction of garbage, emissions, and the fishy harbor that produced a perpetual raw funk which lingered throughout the alleyways. Chloe could see from her sudden hiding spot the firelight shadows flickering in various spots up and down the harbor and under the bridges. She would have to take special care in getting around Gotham's possible exceptions to the homeless rule.

But Chloe couldn't ignore the immense building looming over the harbor: _Arkham Asylum_.

Like a finger down her spine, Chloe felt the familiar icy feel of panic and couldn't help the shiver that she was certain wasn't from the cold. Given her own personal feelings on the matter, she felt as if she were being pulled in unwillingly by its ominous presence. The aged bricks that bespoke of a time of medical ignorance, lighted shadows through dirty glass along with the occasional blinking lamp that gave Chloe the impression that she was witnessing electric shock therapy. She railed against it as if she were literally being dragged inside.

She'd seen some of the most notorious asylums on "_GhostHunters"._ It was a regular "_House on Haunted Hill_" waiting to happen.

Her personal hero, Nellie Bly, had taken a gamble with her own sanity in order to infiltrate such place so that she could shed the truth on the horrors that were inflicted on its patients. In that moment, gazing out across the bay, Chloe wondered if she truly had the guts anymore. Her mind absently wondered to the ever-present fear of ending up in such a place, whether by heredity or meteor influence hardly mattered anymore. It was as if both factors had sealed the deal.

"Get it together, Sullivan," she muttered to herself as she wrapped her coat tighter about her middle, whether to ward off the cold or simply a defensive reaction. With a deep breath of reassurance, Chloe girded up her intestinal fortitude for the guts she knew that she possessed.

Slowly stepping out from her hiding spot, Chloe eased in and out of shadows with a light step and deft movements. She couldn't help smiling as it all began to come back to her. The good ol' days of spying on big corporations, not mention Lex's high profile personal hobbies.

"_If Clark could see me now,'_ she thought with a bit of pride.

'_He'd kick my ass,'_ was the immediate follow-up.

She tried to not to feel _too_ proud of herself. Her destination was quite possibly more dangerous than anything she could encounter at LuthorCorp. She was heading towards the prime piece of real estate that was suddenly up for grabs: Carmine Falcone's waterfront docks.

oOo

"D'you hear that?"

A large man huffed with exasperation. "Lenny, you really need to knock that off," he scolded tiredly as he took a huge bite of a sloppy hero. "We ain't heard or seen about that '_bat'_ character in weeks."

Lenny's nervous eyes continued to dart around the docks. "He's the least of my worries," he admitted as he tensely rubbed the back of his neck. "We're sittin' on the hottest spot in Gotham right now."

The large man huffed his amusement. "Eh, the way I see it, we've got it made," he declared, sputtering food particles as he spoke. "We ain't got the hired guns breathin' down our necks and we're still getting paid."

From the shadows of crates and broken cardboard boxes, Chloe eyed two men skulking about up and down the docks, occasionally walking to the edge of the docks in a absent manner.

Chloe kept bent carefully behind one of crates furthest from the men, but she knew the longer she stayed, the most likely she would be discovered. Slowly slipping her hand inside her coat pocket, Chloe methodically pulled out her phone and aimed the camera just as the sound of a boat engine began rumbling louder as it came closer.

Chloe grinned with wicked accomplishment as she looked down at the picture. The pixels making up the picture were excellent. There was absolutely no chance that these two men could be mistaken for anyone else. She snapped the pictures silently and with one last click all she had to do now was….

"Well now" she heard a breathy drawl that immediately sent shivers up her spine.

Chloe whirled quickly, her eyes shot wide open with surprise, but quickly turned to fright. _'What the hell?'_ screeched through her brain.

"They didn't get to say…"—he shoved his face closer to hers—"_'cheese'_."

Her face twisted in disgust and a quick panic seemed to understate the pounding of her heart and her breath was coming quicker as adrenaline began to course through her body. Chloe had seen a lot of _"freaks"_ in her day, but this one took the gold medal with a near perfect ten. Quickly giving the nutjob a once-over, he looked like a clown on crack.

His pasty white face, red paint smeared sloppily across his grinning mouth. The black circles around his eyes were just as slapdash, but his look was wide-eyed and crazed. All topped off with what looked like hair that had been done by Nickelodeon.

Chloe, not even thinking of the other men, began slowly backing away from this strange individual.

Immediately, his mouth turned down into a frown. "Hmm," he began, his face playing the sad clown. "And I was so hoping that we could get to know each other"--a click and the sheen of a blade suddenly appeared before her--"…_better_," he finished with raised brows and a whisper of intrigue, allowing the switchblade to dance dangerously in the air between them.

Thinking back to her classes, Chloe remembered the first instruction in a situation like this: Run, if you can.

Chloe made no bones about it and turned quickly only to make it a few steps before she was stopped in her tracks by the sight of the men she'd been previously spying.

She spotted shadows approaching the two men. The larger one began rushing to meet them.

"Hey, it's about…" she heard the large one shout up the docks, but he was quickly silenced by semi-automatic fire that resounded through the maze of crates and into the night. Chloe threw up a hand to her mouth to muffle her own scream at the sight of blood spattering and the man falling lifelessly to the ground along with his slimmer comrade.

One look over her shoulder, Chloe found that the strange man had gone and wasted no time in rushing through the narrow twists and turns through the unusual labyrinth.

"Spread out! Find the rest of them!"

Chloe began to run in earnest. She stopped abruptly, skipping along clumsily as she removed her shoes to keep down the clacking of her heels from drawing attention and resumed her flight, every so often stepping on something hurt her feet, but she couldn't let it slow her down, not now.

A wicked laugh followed after her. "I'm going to find you," he taunted in a sing-song fashion.

Chloe stopped and turned suddenly.

All behind her were large streaks of blood leading up to where she stood now. Quickly, she examined her feet and grimaced when she found her right foot had quite a large gash that continued to ooze blood.

Suddenly, she was overwhelmed. There was no sense in running. She'd seen them and that all by itself was her own signature on her death warrant, only now she was practically signing it in blood.

There was the hurried thought of sucking up the lecture and calling Clark. Absently, dropping her shoes, Chloe quickly fumbled for her phone as she began to rush once more through the crates and back to where she'd came in. She couldn't wait to see Clark's face when she told him that she'd just landed herself in the middle of a mob war.

'_He'll be so thrilled,'_ she thought sarcastically as she slowed a bit.

She looked up from the phone as she ran. _'One last turn..._'she thought as she tried to call and run at the same time.

Until she crashed into someone stepping around that corner.

Rough hands grasped her about her wrists and forced her arms behind her back, causing her to drop her phone. Two men covered in clown masks held her fast, despite her efforts to yank herself free.

"Well, well, little Gretel," came that wicked voice, its hint of a high pitch beginning to make itself known as he rounded the corner. "It would seem I followed the bread crumbs," he gestured to her blood trail as he slowly approached her, his hand reaching out, yet only to trace the curve of her hair alongside her face with his switchblade. "Shall I show you my house of goodies?"

Chloe felt her face curl in a grimace. "You gotta be joking?" she blurted stupidly.

His face twisted in a nasty, painted grin. "You read my mind," he replied with excited sarcasm. "Now let's see if you can finish my sentences," he added in hurried excitement. "Okay, in a moment, we'll be joining the rest of the boys," he explained as if he were going to give her a tour. "...and then you will be..." he gestured casually for her to finish.

Raped? Maimed? Murdered?

Chloe simply closed her eyes in dread and didn't reply. For all the lunatics she'd ever had the displeasure of running into, this man was beginning to bring a whole new meaning to "c_ertifiable_."

The man simply dropped his hand with exaggerated disappointment. "All right," he shrugged and turned away and gestured for the men to bring her along.

Chloe pretended to go along quietly, but tried to dig her bare heels in to slow the men down. _As 'le freak c'est chic'_ was pulling ahead, it was time to find out if all those classes were worth it. In a bold move, with thumbs out, Chloe quickly snapped wrists in a twist and was free of their grasp instantly. Without thinking, she elbowed one in the face while kicking the other in the knees.

While the goons were momentarily occupied, Chloe took that opportunity to run like the devil was after her…if she should be so lucky.

_Le freak_ only turned and allowed his shoulders to raise and drop in an overly dramatic fashion. "I hate it when they do this," he sighed as he casually reached into his jacket and pulled out a favored _Lupara_.

"When will they ever learn?" he muttered casually, shaking his head and raising the sawed-off shotgun, not caring that the goons that had recovered and began running after her could get in the way.

Chloe felt her legs were going as fast as she could move them, cold water splashing her legs from the puddles, yet it was as if she weren't getting anywhere, just running aimlessly in the dark with no chance of escape. Any moment, she half expected to fall down with a twisted ankle like some ditzy blonde in a slasher flick.

She didn't see the shadow that came from nowhere. She didn't see the goons running after her disappear. She didn't see the strange man with the green hair lower his gun and simply watch, a grin of bemusement on is face.

She felt a firm grip about her waist and before she could get the words, "What the…?" out, Chloe was watching the ground quickly shrink away from beneath her.

Her first inclination was that it could be Clark, but one quick look at…whatever it was… in black and she knew that it was a far cry from her best friend. The sudden rushing of dark platform of a nearby rooftop coming closer stopped all other possible theories as both of them landed with a jarring thud.

She was practically dumped her in a heap on the rooftop, but a combination of adrenaline and Chloe's _"need to know" _policy and she had leapt to face her rescuer, but what she saw brought a mixture of conflicting thoughts and emotions.

Standing there, staring down off the rooftop was…

At first, she flinched in abject confusion, only to feel an inappropriate bubble of laughter begin to build inside. "Are you serious?" she blurted with a giggle and slowly stepped towards what had to be a man…maybe?

...yeah, he was man… in a bat outfit?

At the sound of her voice, the dark form turned to face her. No emotion and absolutely silent.

Due to the adrenaline or the oddity of the moment, Chloe had a smile that just wouldn't go away. "Look, I know Halloween is coming up, but don't you guys think it's a bit early for Trick or Treat?"

He still said nothing, but continued to stare her down with a very dark, stern gaze. His cape whipping behind him with the cool wind.

Ignoring everything else and sobering a bit, Chloe continued towards him. "Look, I'm not sure what all this is about," she gestured up and down his gear. "But, I can at least thank you," she added with tilt of her head and quirk at the corner of her mouth.

Still, he said nothing, but gave a single nod…no smile… and leapt from the side of the building.

Her eyes leapt open wide. "Wait, no!" she shouted. Chloe felt her gut drop as she clamored to the edge, her frantic eyes searching below.

But there was nothing.

More confused than ever, Chloe turned away from the edge, the wind beginning to pluck at her jacket and she suddenly felt the cold once more.

Abandoned on a rooftop in "T_he Narrows_", Chloe had truly begun to believe that, for once, she may have gotten a_ little_ more than she'd bargained for.

"Oh boy," she sighed.

She suddenly realized that she was still completely barefooted from where she'd dropped her shoes, which led to another consideration.

Chloe began patting herself down in a panic and searched through her jacket pockets inside and out.

Her phone?

Crap.

oOo

_Author's Note: Once again, I apologize for this lousy scene, but hopefully it'll get better. By the way, I had originally had the timeline start in early October and I'm keeping it there, so just in case you wondered..._

_Thanks for hanging on with me! And remember, constructive criticism is always welcome. Don't be surprised for grammatical mistakes. I'm sure they are there. _


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: Well, this one may be a little short and bit unnerving for myself, so let me know what you **really** think about it. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, DC comics, characters, la-la, so on and so forth._

oOo

"Sullivan!"

Chloe heard the sudden bellow and she was struck with a comforting sense of nostalgia. She couldn't help the sudden thrill that streaked through her.

A sound slap against her desk and Chloe found her newly written article contained within a manila folder. She'd managed to crank it out in record time. There wasn't a chance in hell that she could've gotten a wink of sleep last night after everything that had happened. By the time she'd managed to scramble down the rooftop and make her way back to the main drag to hail a cab, her blood was pumping, her mind racing with ideas.

For all that she _had_ to write about Bruce Wayne's piddle –party; she couldn't let this go without a word.

Chloe simply turned to look up into the furrowed gray eyes of Mr. Grant.

"Five seconds. My office. Now!"

Chloe smiled inwardly. Ah yes, that was the sound of her story getting ready to hit the front page.

Chloe exaggerated a pensive sigh and with a heavy slap of her hands against her desk and shoved her chair away to get up and follow him. She had a feeling that Walter might react this way. She was brought back to a moment that wasn't unlike going to the principal's office and it was usually over something that she'd written for _The Torch_. But all it really seemed to take was a bit of coaxing, a touch of debate…

A quick, loose slam of the office door didn't even manage to conjure a smidgeon of apprehension.

Walter rounded his desk quickly. "If you aren't in the Witness Program now, you should be after this hits the streets," he informed as he slung the folder onto his desk with quite an emphasizing slap.

Chloe quickly reached down and picked up the folder with a sense of excitement. "So does that mean you're going to run it?"

Walter placed his palms on his desk and leaned heavily. "I send you out to cover that _Wayne_-thing and you bring me hints at a mob war?"

"Aw, c'mon, Walter," Chloe droned. "Bruce Wayne is the society page," she began as she strode towards his desk. "_This_," she held up her article. "…is news."

Walter looked up at her, his eyes wide and unblinking. "Do you have any idea what you're getting ready to drag this paper into?"

"I'm doing some research right now," Chloe began, gearing up for a scintillating presentation. "By all reports, Carmine Falcone is still missing. This is the perfect moment for anyone who wants to expand their territory and judging by last night, dibs have already been placed."

Walter gave her a look of warning. He couldn't deny this. Word was already spreading that there had been an ambush in _The Narrows, _but now there were no suspects, only speculation.

Chloe could see more than reticence on Walter's face. "_White-faced terror_" was more the expression. In the past, it seemed that the mob had beaten down the city of Gotham so far to the point that everyone was afraid to stick their necks for fear of having their heads lopped off.

But something had happened.

Something happened and Chloe knew that Gotham was on its way to crawling out of the shadows of fear.

"Walter, I remember, there used to be a time when _The Gotham Gazette_ nearly rivaled _The Planet_ in journalism. No one in this building was afraid to go after a story and you," she stopped and looked at him pointedly, "_You_ never balked at flashing a controversial front page," she argued.

"I was younger in those days," Walter mumbled as he took a seat, but eyed Chloe pointedly. "And things were different in those days."

Chloe gave a quick casual toss of her hands. "So_ The_ _Gazette_ needs updating and little fine tuning," she said, placing her hands on the opposite side of his desk and leaned toward him. "C'mon Walter, let's restore _The Gotham Gazette_ to its former glory. Gotham City is getting ready to play host to the up-and-coming mob games of Olympic proportions. Don't you think the people have a right to know what's coming their way?"

"C'mon Walter, now is the time."

Walter only looked up at Chloe, her blue eyes sparkling with ambition and crinkling with witticism. It sounded like a good motivational speech, and for a moment Walter Grant felt that driving force which had propelled him into journalism to begin with and he hadn't realized how much he'd repressed out of fear.

For a moment, he only sighed and looked away for a moment, his hands clasped together in front of him. Chloe could only hold her breath for briefest of moments.

For the first time since _The Torch_ that she had felt that wonderfully invigorating feel of what it meant to be a real reporter. Last night she had been on a high that not even the strongest cup of caffeine could produce. She didn't want to lose that. She didn't want to lose that feeling of making a difference.

For all of Clark's amazing powers, Oliver's connections, and everyone else that she knew that were blessed with amazing abilities, all she ever counted as her truest attribute was her journalistic passion. Sure she'd been meteor-infected and she'd been graced with the power of the double-edged sword. She had to use her powers wisely, possibly at the risk of her own life. Sure she could make a difference…for a time. But this way…

This way she could accomplish so much more.

"All right."

Chloe jerked out of her own thoughts with a mistaken sense. "Excuse me?"

"We'll run it," Walter finally conceded. "But I want _you _to make sure you cover your own ass," he added with a stern look and a single point of his finger.

"Aye, aye captain," Chloe threw a mock salute. "Ass covered, sir."

She tried to resist the urge an actual squeal of delight, keeping her excitement to an ear-to-ear grin. She turned to walk out, but quickly swiveled back around with a look of confusion. "Are you sure about this?" she asked, knowing that covering her own behind was all well and good, but that it left everything all on Mr. Grant.

Walter waved a dismissive hand. "I'll figure something out," was all he could say. They both knew what it meant. Public hinting at a mob war with prominent names featured heavily in a high profile article could mean something dangerous…maybe.

Chloe looked at Walter and knew that she couldn't simply let him take the full brunt of her journalistic ambitions. Maybe if she could contact Oliver and ask him for a few favors.

"Maybe that strange character can help out," Chloe muttered aloud in monotone as she studied her article.

Walter's head came up. "Strange character?" he reiterated in question.

Chloe scrunched her eyebrows and shook her head nonsensically. "Yeah," she replied nonchalantly, but didn't go on to explain who he was, what he'd done or where he'd gone afterward. "Weird guy, but speaking of my behind, he saved it last night."

Walter couldn't help a sheepish smile and scratched his head. "Strange character, you say? Look peculiar?"

Chloe scoffed with cynicism as she pretended to glance over her article once more. "I ran into a lot of '_peculiars_' last night," she muttered..

"Yes, but, did he have a specific look?" Walter kept hinting.

Chloe glanced up and pinned Walter with glance of suspicion.

"I thought we'd seen the last of him," Walter mumbled aloud and caught Chloe's look of disbelief, only to return one of his own. "You mean, you haven't heard? _You._ Haven't. Heard?"

Chloe was beginning to become frustrated at the cat and mouse game. She lowered the folder with a drop of impatience. "All right, I'll bite."

Walter decided not to goad Chloe about the Batman. '_Let her find out about him on her own'_, he thought with a grin.

Chloe knew condescending humor when she heard it and it took everything within her to tell Walter that she'd been covered up to her ears in paranormal and meta-humans since her sophomore year in high school. One man parading about the night dressed as a large bat was hardly going to be a blip on her radar.

"I take it that last night wasn't his premier debut?"

Walter only shrugged with a glint of teasing that crinkled at the corners of his eyes. "Well, whatever the case, don't leave him out," was all he could say as he settled comfortably in his loose, leather desk chair, grabbing the phone with a little wave of dismissal.

"Are you serious?" Chloe was indignant at first. "You want to _me_ to feature a grown man that dresses up as if it's a perpetual Halloween in what could possibly be the highest profile article of the year?"

"Get Ginny to help you," was all Walt could say as he turned his attention back to the phone, swinging around in his chair. "Yeah, Jim, get up here right away. Got a new headline for you…"

Chloe's eyes went wide. She stared at Walter for only a second before she was shooed out of his office. Turning sharply, she stalked back to her desk.

oOo

Alfred breezed from the kitchen and through the rest of the manor practically on tiptoes carrying a silver tray which held _"Master Wayne's_" breakfast…at one o' clock in the afternoon along with this morning's newspaper.

He couldn't stop smiling.

Alfred carefully backed into the dark den of Bruce Wayne's bedroom, carefully setting the tray on the bedside table and opening the dark brocade drapes to allow the midday light to stream into the room.

"Rise and shine, Master Bruce" Alfred called innocently, his hands clasped behind his back.

A roll and a groan from Bruce and Alfred knew that it was going to take some of the typical coaxing to get him out of bed. Shouldn't be a problem today.

Bruce rolled towards the alarm clock and growled in frustration. "Alfred, it's one o' clock," he groaned.

"Oh, but don't forget that _The Gazette_ covered the fundraiser," Alfred noted in a much punctuated tone as he took a seat across from his bed.

Bruce, in a tired motion, slammed his face into his pillow. "So did everyone else, Alfred. You know I don't read that stuff," he added, as he pulled the sheets over his head.

"Oh, but I think you might enjoy this particular commentary," Alfred suggested as he gave the folded up paper a gentle shake for emphasis.

Bruce's finally tossed the sheets away and came to sit up on the edge of the bed. "So, it made the front page," he scrubbed a hand over his tired eyes. "Big deal."

Alfred only beamed at him as he handed him the morning paper.

Bruce, perplexed to say the least by Alfred's behavior, tentatively took the offered paper and flipped it open.

And froze.

"**All Along The Watchtower**?" Bruce recited in question the feature headline above the article. No by-line.

"Hmm, there's a nice throwback to Bob Dylan," Alfred hummed.

Bruce quickly gave a glance of annoyance at Alfred's blasé attitude.

_**Falcone's Men Murdered. **_

"_Last night, with what appears to be a shipping exchange gone wrong ended with two men found dead and police stumped. In the darkness of the early morning, unknown assailants infiltrated and ambushed the known convicted criminals said to have been under the extensive employment of one of Gotham's most notorious citizens of the underworld, Carmine Falcone. Earlier this year, Falcone was institutionalized prior to the city's sudden bout with anarchy and escaped during the chaos. No one has heard or seen Falcone since. While the murders are under police investigation, no known suspects have been named at this time. Gotham City Police department comment regarding persons of interest…."_

Bruce's eyes grew darker as he scanned the rest of the article. Whoever had written the article left out the obvious conclusion that no one wanted to think about: A mob war could be on the rise.

And as of last night there was one witness and one lunatic still roaming free.

He folded the paper with his fist. Could it truly be that blonde reporter from _The Gazette_ last night that was responsible for this article? In the first place, what had she been doing down in _The Narrows_ into the wee hours of the morning after having just left the party soon after he'd caught her snooping around his library?

"Alfred, my clothes," Bruce stated plainly as he stood.

Alfred simply stayed his seat. "Don't you want to read the feature about the gala?" he nodded towards the paper turning a ridiculous toothy grin towards Bruce.

An aggravated look of confusion towards his butler and Bruce exhaled sharply through his nose. For the moment, he already forgotten it and quickly flipped to the page where he knew the article should be.

And when he didn't find it there, his brows furrowed as he kept turning page after page.

Grinning the entire time, Alfred managed a bit of pleasure at watching his ward squirm over the lack of attention he was used to receiving after throwing such a bash. As blasé as Bruce tried to be about the amount of attention he received from the paparazzi, for fundraising events Alfred knew that his young master was confident his fundraisers would be one the most highly publicized.

Bruce finally found the small paragraph at the bottom left on the back of the _Society Page_.

"_If you thought this was a place for a scintillating article featuring Bruce Wayne, stop now and pick up the nearest copy of __**The Inquisitor**__," _he read aloud in a monotonous tone_. "Last night, Mr. Wayne, ironically threw an impromptu fundraiser to feature his multi-million dollar home. The interior architectural stylings of the house are reminiscent of the days of early American tycoons with homes that are featured extensively on any episode of _**'**_**America's Castles'**__. "_

Bruce began to pace back and forth as he continued. "_Mr. Wayne dazzled guests with a superior humor and rapier wit."_

"Rapier," Alfred repeated with what almost sounded like… glee. "I like that."

Bruce shot his butler a deadly glare.

"_While the fundraiser may not have raked in as much as the cost of the home at a pittance of only a few million dollars, I'm sure the winner of "__**Dinner date with Bruce Wayne**__", which, arguably, had the most bids, will feel as though it were all worth it as Mr. Wayne flirted shamelessly with each and every enthusiastic bidder."_

Bruce allowed his hand to drop, his lips pressed into a thin line as he exhaled through his nostrils once more. _'Dinner Date with Bruce Wayne, '_he droned bitterly in his mind.

"You know sir," Alfred began again. "If I didn't know better…

A piercing glare from the corner of Bruce's eyes and Alfred simply summed the rest of it up with a grin.

Bruce simply tossed the paper onto his bed and made his way to the shower. "Don't get too hung up on her, Alfred," he called over his shoulder.

oOo

_Author's note: Well, let me know what you think._


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's Note**: Well, I hope this will do for the moment. I've been struggling with myself on whether to allow **"The Dark Knight"** to influence some of this fic and I think it will a little. You guys let me know what you think. _

_In the meantime, I'm trying my best to attempt something resembling a plot. I am certainly open to suggestions and constructive criticism. _

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Smallville, DC comics, etc. This is just for fun folks.

oOo

_The Gazette_ continued to be abuzz with a flurry of activity until day quickly turned to night and most of _The Gazette_ quickly left to go home. Only a select few continued to stay, even as the doors were locked down at the entrance as a precautionary measure.

Chloe ran an examining hand over the soles of her feet through her stockings while hanging on to the phone with the other. "Are you sure?" Chloe asked with great skepticism and swiveled casually in her chair and began to scribble quickly on a scrap piece of paper.

"_Yes, I can meet you tomorrow near Gotham's Met,"_ replied a hushed voice. _"No names, all right?"_

"Absolute, total anonymity," she assured into the phone.

"_Try not to look conspicuous and make sure you're not followed_," was the advisement with a click and dial tone.

"Okay," she mumbled to no one in particular and hung up the phone while she continued to jot down notes.

A gentle clearing of the throat managed to reluctantly pull Chloe's attention away from her note pad to find Walter Grant staring down at her.

"Don't you think it's time to cut out of here?" Walter questioned casually with a glance down to his watch and jerk of his thumb towards the darkened window.

Chloe simply looked out the window and then back to Walter with a knowing look of exasperation.

Walter leaned his hip into the side of her desk, crossed his arms and looked down at her over the rim of his glasses. "I admire your dedication, but don't you think that you've done enough today?" he waved his hand about to indicate the immense reaction to her story that mob activity was escalating and unpredictable.

The morning edition of the paper had not only gone off without a hitch, but the _Gazette's_ phones had practically rung off the hook. Her article, which had been written with an anonymous by-line, had hit out to nearly everyone.

She'd chosen the headline of _**Watchtower **_as a goodwill gesture to the guys that had given her the nickname. The blogs and boards were hitting thousands of comments and some were saying that _The Gazette_ was possibly on its way back as a stalwart rival to all the major papers of the country. Others were saying that the paper was crazy out of desperation and it should let sleeping dogs lie.

"If you insist on going after Gotham's underworld, at least do it from the comfort of your own home for the night," Walter added and patted the desk to signal that it was time for her to go.

Chloe only smiled and began to gather her things as Walter began to make his way towards his office. Chloe pulled her purse onto her shoulder, but with hesitant consideration. "Hey Walter?"

"Yes?"

Chloe turned for a beat. "In my research, I've come across a couple of things," she began as she took a step towards him. "There were reports that even down at the MC that some of Gordon's own people were on the take."

Walter didn't even blink, but continued to stare over the rim of glasses. "Yes," he prompted.

Chloe began to feel a little apprehensive. "Do you suppose that's true?"

"What are you asking me, Sullivan?" he queried.

Chloe took a breath and couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"I don't know if any of my reporters are owned by the mob," he finally said. "That's why I said to watch your ass. Why? You having second thoughts?"

Chloe was thoughtful for a moment. While working at _The Planet_, she never shirked a headline that she knew would earn her name on top of someone's shit list. Even when Lex threatened her with a sure prison sentence, she stood her ground. Only when he threatened family and friends, did she decide to back down.

"Look, Walt," she began as she stepped towards him once more. " As a reporter, I've never been one to shrink from a threatening headline." She said as she came to stand in front of him. "I just don't want anyone else to get caught in the crossfire."

Walter grinned. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'll be helping to watch your ass by proxy of my own."

With that, he turned and continued back to his office. "Goodnight, Sullivan," he called with a good dismissive nature.

oOo

The wind whipping along the tarmac was a chilly one, but one gentleman didn't seem to mind the cold.

"Report," he shouted over the noise of the accelerating of a jet engine.

"She's not been to The Planet as much as usual, but that could mean anything," was the reply.

"Or it could mean one thing," Lex shot back quickly. "Look, do whatever you have to do to make sure she stays put. Chloe Sullivan is many things. Stupid isn't one of them."

With a quick snap of his phone, Lex began to ascend steps into his private jet.

"Welcome, Mr. Luthor," greeted the attendant. "The pilot has informed me that the flight to Star City should be smooth and on time."

Lex only smiled. "Excellent," he replied and ducked inside.

oOo

Chloe cursed herself.

Keeping a steady pace, eyes directly ahead, Chloe was getting a bit apprehensive, her eyes surreptitiously darting from one dark place to the next. The other night must have affected her more than she originally thought that it would. The darkness seemed to have turned even the most benign objects into menacing shadows.

It was almost as if she were waiting for someone or some_thing_, to come leaping from the darkness. She kept telling herself that if she even had her phone that perhaps she wouldn't be as frightened knowing Clark was merely a phone call and a split second away.

Even with her self-defense, it didn't quite stop her from feeling anxious.

But one thing remained and it had continuously lurked in the back of her mind all day: she had lost her phone; a phone which held some amazing incriminating evidence.

The disclosing of that little piece of information made her cringe inside. As badly as she knew that she should, the risk was simply too great. While Oliver had amazing technological barriers, Lex's wasn't exactly out of the loop on surveillance. She was certain that Lex was closely monitoring both Oliver and Clark. A call from the Gotham's most notable paper would certainly raise an eyebrow.

Chloe sighed.

Lex was hardly a stupid man.

She closed desperate eyes and beseeched the Almighty not to allow her phone to fall into the wrong hands…whichever one those could be. At the moment, Chloe hadn't decided if this "_Bat-man_", or whatever, character was any better than that horrendous Bozo impersonator from the just the other night.

With any luck, it made its way into the river.

Chloe couldn't help anguishing over the fact that she'd been so careless in her pursuit of a story. Now what would happen? Chloe could only begin with the _'what-if's'_ that would certainly drive her crazy.

"_Okay, now this is for you," Oliver said with a gracious offered hand. _

_Chloe picked up the sleek, intricate cell phone and studied it as if she should find something conspicuous about the device. "Okay…?"_

"_This phone is uploaded in my personal security," Oliver informed. "No one and I do mean 'no one…," he added with a pointed raise of his brows. "…can hack into your phone without my security spotting the culprit. It performs all the obvious normal functions and here is a phantom list of contacts. All you have to do to find yours, press # and enter your high security clearance password."_

"_So I get to be James Bond to your Q? Cool," Chloe nodded, but paused for a beat. "This thing's not gonna explode if I press the wrong button?"_

_Oliver only grinned. "No, but it will get you into some of the most exclusive places in Gotham City…if you should decide to try the night life," Oliver quipped with a good-natured bob of his head. "So be careful about giving anyone your number, you might want to make them part of your list or they'll get an alternative voicemail for an alias here in Star City. To make a long story short, we're trying to give you as much of a normal life as possible without putting you under Luthor's radar."_

_Chloe felt her face pull into a frown for only a moment. _

_Night life, huh? _

"_Well, I don't think I'll be doing much of the social scene," _she'd muttered with as much good humor as possible, yet even she could still hear her own grumbling discontent.

Chloe recalled that particular moment to calm her nerves. If Oliver could manage to keep Lex Luthor from trying to hack her phone, then she wasn't too worried about a few gun-toting lunatics from obtaining her personal information.

The other one was a different matter altogether…

oOo

"_Sorry, try again."_

Bruce was literally on the verge of growling back at his computer screen. He glanced down at his keyboard. He'd been trying to hack the girl's phone and each time it always ended in the same thing.

"_Sorry, try again,"_ was the effeminate computer voice that politely mocked him.

"Master Wayne?" Alfred gently interrupted.

Bruce turned in his chair to find Alfred carrying the girl's black pumps that sat regally on his silver serving tray. "Would it not be best to…give up?"

Bruce simply turned in his chair and punched a combination of keys.

Still ever polite._ "This is really annoying,_" was the effeminate voice.

"You're telling me," Bruce grumbled as he focused on the screen before him and tried one last time.

"_Okay, now I will have to notify the authorities_," it finally said.

Bruce slowly rolled back from his desk, but stayed close enough to pound it relentlessly out of aggravation.

Alfred looked on placidly. "I would've never guessed that you would've taken a press review quite this personally, Master Wayne."

Bruce shifted a quick glare in Alfred's direction.

Alfred was hardly fazed as he set down his tray. "If I may ask sir, why are you trying so hard? I'm sure she's quite harmless."

"Alfred, she was snooping around my house!" he shot out with impatience. "And she has an unhealthy attraction for suspicious mob activities."

Though he hadn't been able to access her phone in depth, however, he was able to pull her most recent pictures which he already downloaded, filtered, and were awaiting inspection.

To his utter bafflement, there was one thing he simply couldn't figure out. Why had she been snooping around his library if not in an attempt to spread his personal life all over the front page of _The Gazette _like a normal reporter, but instead berate him in a small paragraph?

Alfred couldn't help a knowing smile. Clasping his hands behind his back, he meandered towards the massive workstation. "Sir, is there a slight…bear in mind, slight… possibility, that she's simply a reporter looking for a story? Perhaps, just a coincidence?" he added speculatively.

Bruce stared down at the floor, his hand propped under his chin in consideration. "Perhaps," he relented in a near inaudible grumble.

"So then, give the girl back her phone. And for heaven's sake, her shoes," he pleaded with a quick glance at the pumps he continued to carry.

Bruce was on the verge of a crack about shoe fetishes when he was interrupted by his cell phone.

**Gordon**

"Hang on to those shoes, Alfred."

oOo

_Author's Note: Leave me an opinion_. :-)


	11. Chapter 11

_**Author's Note**: I think this may actually be coming together. I'm sure there may a few discrepancies in continuity, but I hope to smooth over that. I'm not sure how well my Joker will go over, but I'm trying_ :-)

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Smallville, DC Comics, etc.

oOo

"So the ball is rolling."

Sal Maroni simply looked up from the paper that lay spread across his desk. "Yes, so I've read," he gestured across the paper. "At this point, the press will only be an asset. Our enemies will be anticipating our next move. They'll be panicking," he claimed as he scrubbed his chin with his finger. " and they'll make mistakes…"

Clasping his fingers together, Maroni allowed himself a self-satisfied grin. "Excellent," he drawled in triumph. However, he quickly arched a defined brow in consideration, "Any witnesses?"

"Sal, Sal, Sal," the Joker repeated in good nature. "Are you really worried about witnesses?"

Maroni took a concentrated moment to eye the goon, only to eventually huff with a grin. "What made you come back?" he drawled, his eyes in a speculative squint.

The strange man sat quietly at first and stared at Maroni. "Mr. Maroni…I'm not… a very organized man," he began, sounding as though he were making a dramatic confession. "I...start things… without really finishing them. I mean, I'm not a business man," he continued. "Now you"—he pointed towards Maroni and smiled. "You're a business man. The business of '_organized crime'_,"-- he made quotation marks in the air. Lolling his head in a desperate fashion, he focused on Maroni with eyebrows lifted in despair. "I need stability," he professed in grandeur, his face turned down in a frown, placing his hands on his chest.

Maroni nearly laughed out loud as he settled back in his chair. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Joker leaned his arms on the desk and smiled. "Can you ever really trust anyone in this business?" he asked, bobbing his head for emphasis.

Whether he could trust the clown or not, wasn't high on his priority list. The strange man got things done and that was all that mattered for the moment. He'd just have a closer eye kept on him and lose him when the time was right. Maroni looked away for a moment, "Guess not," he mumbled quickly.

"So," Joker shifted in excitedly. "What's next?"

oOo

The horrendous buzzing noise of her alarm clock made Chloe cringe, rollover, and slam the snooze button.

Just for those extra five minutes, Chloe snuggled deeper into the covers and was near to falling back to sleep when the queerest sound unexpectedly caught her attention.

Her head quickly popped up from the pillow with eyes scrunched in uncertainty. Though, a bit muffled, the sound made its way to her ears again.

It sounded like a strange jingle.

"No way," she mumbled and scrambled out of bed.

Quickly yanking on her cotton robe, Chloe wandered seemingly aimless around her apartment to find where the source of the noise could be coming from, until she passed by her apartment window.

She stopped, backed up, and stared hard with squinted eyes through the filmy window with even more uncertainty.

"No way," she reiterated, only with more disbelief.

Throwing open the window, shivering against the morning chill, Chloe saw clearly her black pumps along with her phone ringing inside one of them. By the sound of the ringtone, Clark was calling her.

She quickly snatched the shoes from the railing, slammed the window shut and opened her phone.

"Hello?"

"Chloe?" was the panicked response. "Where the hell have you been? I've been trying to call for hours?"

Chloe instantly felt her insides become anxiety-ridden. "I'm sorry, Clark," she began, trying to think of a good excuse to explain why she hadn't been able to answer her phone.

"Chloe," Clark began and she instantly felt a lecture coming on. "I was worried to death. I nearly came out there to see if you were all right."

Chloe grinned with a tiny amount of exasperation. "Clark, I'm fine," she tried to convince him while inside, her mind was racing on whether or not to really say anything. Perhaps, to err on the side of caution, maybe she should.

Her mind came back to Clark's voice and she could tell that he was on his way to preaching a sermon on responsibility.

"Look, Clark," she interrupted quickly. "I need to tell you something, but you gotta promise me that you're not going to freak out," she added, though she knew that was virtually impossible.

Chloe took a deep breath. "I, sort of, lost my phone."

"Huh?" was Clark's initial befuddled response, but then her words quickly sunk in. "What!"

Chloe actually flinched at the sound of Clark's voice. "Did you just _shriek,_ Clark?" she asked with strained aggravation. Never mind telling him how she got it back.

"Chloe this isn't funny," he began in his most serious tone. "Your phone very well could've fallen into the wrong hands? Do you have any idea-"

"Clark, relax," Chloe interrupted again. "I don't think it's as serious as all that. I mean, not anyone associated with Lex or even if it was, I trust Oliver."

Clark emitted an immense sigh. "I'll phone Oliver and notify him. Maybe he can look for any possible glitches"

On that note, it made this next part much worse as Chloe felt her face scrunch in dread. "Well, so far, that's the good news."

Pause.

"What do you mean?" Was it possible that for Clark's voice to drop two more octaves?

"Well…I—"

"No, Chloe," Clark warned with the full knowledge that his declaration was completely in vain.

"Clark, it's an amazing story-"

"No, Chloe," Clark reiterated, his voice beginning to rise.

"But Clark, you don't understand. In one night, I managed to bring to light a piece of Gotham's underworld," she informed, trying not to sound too giddy.

"No! Chloe!" he shouted with a hint of desperation.

She flinched again and was beginning to grow extremely frustrated at her friend's well-placed concerned. "Geez, Clark."

Clark obviously ignored her well-placed aggravation. "Gah….Chloe?" he scoffed. "Not as serious as…. What the hell were you thinking? Do you have any idea what you've done? You know how notorious Gotham's underworld is? Was this your idea of dark and mysterious?"

Chloe had her cell held a full arm length with Clark's voice coming in loud and clear. Finally, after the bellowing ceased and awkward silence ensued, Chloe finally began to calm down and was hoping Clark was as well.

"Chloe," he finally began, only this time…

It was coming from the other side of her window.

She whirled suddenly to find his blazing red jacket trying to scream through her window from her fire escape.

Tossing open the window, she turned back towards her kitchen to start the coffee.

"I'm just worried and now, I'm afraid you've made things worse for you than before," Clark proclaimed as he stepped inside.

Chloe couldn't help the sigh that had been building from the moment she called him and it finally erupted. "Clark, what do you expect me to do? I mean, the idea of coming here—"

His brows rose for a moment. "The _idea _was for you to keep a low profile, I mean, it's exactly this sort of thing that could put you back under Lex's radar," he informed.

Chloe pressed her lips into a thin line and suppressed her impulse to begin an amazing argument, but simply looked at him with casual placidness. "Clark, you know as well as I do, once Lex has you in his sights, you won't get out for very long. I can't let Lex keep me from living my life, Clark and _this is _my life," she gestured all around her.

Clark exhaled a long sigh through his nostrils. She was right. It was an enormous insult to ask Chloe to mask who she was, even if for a little while. When it came down to brass tacks, Clark knew, as well as Chloe, that it would take more than simply ducking your head to dodge Lex. "All right, did you take the necessary precautions?"

"Well, actually, I was hoping you'd do it for me," she held up her phone with a sheepish expression.

Clark took the phone and zeroed in on its internal components until he found what he suspected was inside.

"Just as I thought," he muttered and tossed Chloe his most typical look of reprimand. "There's a bug. So whoever it is that grabbed your phone has possibly heard every conversation since then. Who have you talked to?"

Chloe absently scrunched her brows in concentration. "Just you. So far, I've done most of my business calls from _The Gazette_. It's only been a day and a half."

"A day and a—?"Clark's sigh was quite heavy with frustration. His big shoulders raising and dropping in a way that Chloe felt was overly dramatic.

"Well, we know whoever tried to trace your phone could only get as far as Oliver's people," Clark informed with a more positive tone. "I'll remove the bug and see if we can find out who could've placed it," he declared with an actual positive, determined raise of his brows. " 'kay?"

Feeling a bit better regarding the situation, Chloe nodded. However, it was obvious that her phone had been returned and it didn't take a genius in Chinese algebra to figure out who was the most likely candidate to have made the delivery.

'_Great, and now he knows where I live,'_ she thought with so much sarcasm that Clark even looked at her funny.

oOo

Hugo Strange, the psychiatrist in residence at Arkham Asylum, decided during his morning rounds that he should peruse the hallways and observe his patients more closely with the occasional notation in their files and beginning study.

Passing by some of the newer names, Strange reflected on their newfound benefactor. Generous so he'd been thus far, monetarily speaking as well as giving Strange an amazing opportunity to analyze and experiment with some amazing patients, yet Strange couldn't help wondering if it wasn't all about to turn into a seething hall of chaos.

He'd been strongly recommended that a few patients be held restricted by unorthodox and needless to say, outrageous means. Whatever the case, Hugo Strange was intrigued most by the sheer learning experience of it all and he couldn't wait to get under way.

However, the most important patient had yet to arrive. He'd received a short briefing on the patient's condition and was instructed to make a place that would be "_as serene and as comfortable as possible in an enormous building full of lunatics"_.

Trying to ignore the man's extremely odd requests in such a biting manner, Strange decided to abide by his wishes if only to get a look at some of the most amazing cases of the human mind in the country.

oOo

Chloe had sat hunched over her desk with her chin propped under her hand and tapping a pen against it with the other. She hadn't been able to get any work done.

"_Miss Sullivan, your creative passion will always be for the bizarre and the inexplicable. "_

The unexpected voice from the grave whispered through her mind as she remembered an observation made of her by the late Lionel Luthor only a few years ago. However unpleasant, it wasn't untrue.

Since this morning, there was simply one thing she couldn't get off of her mind:

_He'd _stolen her phone.

'_It must've been him,'_ she thought with certainty. '_It had to be him.'_

Like a runner, Chloe's mind began to take pace slowly to race through her speculations.

What exactly did he suspect her of?

Her pictures had been deleted.

But to whose benefit?

And the most perplexing of all, he'd returned her phone.

Why?

Before she had realized it, Chloe's hand had slipped from her chin and immediately trained onto the mouse at her elbow. The tapping of the pen stopped and the clacking of keys started.

Perhaps, this _Bat_man was worth looking into. Headlines soon began popping onto the screen and Chloe was dumbfounded that she hadn't chosen to look into this before.

An unusually large photograph stared back at her. Though blurred, his image was unmistakable.

Chloe squinted her eyes in a calculating glance and perhaps…with a little bit of a smirk. "Hmm, well, Mr. whoever-you-are," she mumbled and returned to leaning her chin onto her hand. "We may just have to find out exactly what you do…and who you are."

oOo

_Author's Note: I'm begging you guys to please let me know if this fic begins to smack of any sort of cheesetastic-ness. Don't be afraid to point it out. _


	12. Chapter 12

_**Author's Note:** This may be a little offbeat from the typical Gotham. I took a little inspiration from a city close to where I live. I had heard for years that downtown was just NOT a place you went...EVER. And now, it's the best place in town to go. Beautiful riverwalk, lots of landscaped greenery, shops, places to eat, clubs, cafes, aquariums, walking bridges, parks, etc. They revamped the whole thing. I thought Gotham deserved at least that much. _

Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, DC comics, etc.

oOo

Dusk was settling and Chloe Sullivan was in such a hurry that she decided to forego the elevator and take the stairs.

Tonight was the night.

Her hand lightly grazing the railing, Chloe was bubbling with such a sense of anticipation that she felt that she could've floated down the steps.

In a matter of a few hours, she was to meet with a contact with a wealth of information; the price untold.

But Chloe couldn't quite make herself care about the consequences. She had seemingly taken up the torch, so to speak, for a worthy cause: to show the citizens of Gotham that they could take back their once beautiful city from the ruthless criminal underworld intent on keeping Gotham City mired in obscurity. She'd finally rediscovered her inspiration and all she could see was the light that she knew was at the end of the tunnel.

Practically bursting through the double doors, not even the chilling wind could sober her elation. Absently wrapping her coat tighter about her middle and pulling her wool scarf high around her neck, Chloe began to the walk to her newest caffeine dispensing paradise: _JavaScript,_ an internet café that had opened in the newly remodeled area of downtown Gotham.

Thanks to Clark, she'd found her veritable Mecca the first night she moved to Gotham. Thrusting her hands into her pockets, Chloe gazed around the downtown area with a huge smile. While most of the city was still rather rough in places, it seemed that officials had managed to spruce up the downtown area into such a beautiful place with classic tastes that the streets were near to overflowing with people.

Certainly, no longer an abandoned shadow left to breed the worst sort of criminals and house only the most desperate of souls.

Despite Clark's warnings, hell, even despite what she had currently written herself into, Chloe felt that she'd made the right decision.

'_I could live here,'_ she thought with wonder and her entire being was beginning to tingle with excitement at the thought of something fresh and new. '_I think I could actually make a life here.'_

There was no looming competition from Lois while at _The Planet_. She wouldn't have to worry about Perry pitting them against each other just to reap the best stories. There would be no ghosts to remind of her of her past, her regrets… her mistakes.

For only a sliver of a moment, she began to feel that Lex just may have done her a favor: an opportunity at a fresh start.

Chloe had become so engrossed in her thoughts that she wouldn't have noticed the black town car slowly tailing her through Gotham's rush hour wind-down.

A peculiar young billionaire eyed her with scrutiny, while completely ignoring the woman sitting next to him. Tonight was the night of his obligation to take the _"winning bid"_ on a date. Clad in a very short, but very flowing coral number that offset her out-of-season tan to even the most scrupulous glance, sat his Bruce's date from the gala auction.

Her long, outstretched legs crossed suggestively in his direction, the young lady was yammering on and on about a recent gathering at some fashion designer's penthouse.

He could barely remember her name.

It was Ms. Mortimer… or something like that? There was a distant memory of a well-established wealthy socialite with that last name. Maybe her daughter?

Whatever the case, she hadn't shut up since they got in the car.

"Ohmigod," she had proclaimed ecstatically. "ThisisjustlikeDaddy's…"

While she chattered on incessantly, Bruce's dark gaze zeroed in on Chloe's bouncing form as she deftly weaved in and out of the people crowding the street until the prattling noise from his left finally cut through his concentration.

He simply turned and looked to the overly saucy brunette that sat next to him.

"I know! Right?" she replied giddily with full, clueless open smile to match.

All he could do was smile and nod as she resumed her rap session in full swing.

For only a second, he allowed himself to glance about the old downtown area. Seeing all the people, unafraid to peruse the streets gave Bruce a sense of hope. Just since this year, the mayor decided to make an attempt to encourage the city by dolling out funds in an attempt to improve downtown Gotham.

New black antique streetlamps graced up and down the city's sidewalks. The Bradford pears that were once filled with green leaves in the spring were now decorated with LED lights that twinkled beautifully along with clean, landscaped medians.

There were a few new shops with intricate, quirky signs that intrigued and beckoned to potential customers. He'd even heard talk of possible carriage rides that would be offered around downtown and through the park.

Thus far, they were merely lofty goals and obviously just talk. But it gave rise to believe; to believe that Gotham could rise above the depths of its foul reputation.

Eventually, all the city's efforts had slowly begun to help breathe life into the once avoided part of town.

"_So, as one of the more prominent citizens in Gotham, do you have any plans for the city?" _was the sudden unwelcome recollection from the other night. Another quick glance around the downtown area, and Bruce suddenly felt a pang of guilt.

Perhaps Bruce Wayne should've lent more time and effort towards rebuilding the city he wanted so much to protect.

If truth be told, he couldn't help feeling that he already had. Were it not for his alter-persona then downtown Gotham would still be a breeding ground of each sort of degenerate.

He quickly noted that the young woman had entered into one of the newer Internet cafes, _JavaScript_. It looked to be a little slice of heaven for those who simply wished to drink coffee and plunk around on their laptops.

"I believe, sir, that you requested a stop here for a moment?" Alfred suddenly informed.

Bruce looked into the rearview mirror at Alfred's hinting glance.

"Yeah," he muttered. It was then he felt the familiar feeling of eyes burning into him. He turned to see Ms. Mortimer glaring a hole through him as the car began to come to a slow stop. Obviously, she didn't care to share her date that had generously been paid for with any possible interruption.

"I'm sorry, I didn't sleep very well last night," Bruce informed with nonchalance and merely gave her a sure smile. "You want anything?" he gestured to the café.

Arms tightly crossed and eyes certainly unblinking, Ms. Mortimer replied with a very stiff, "I'm fine, thanks."

Alfred rolled down his window just as Bruce exited the vehicle. "Uh, shall I just drive around or park?" he quipped politely.

Bruce leaned down with a grin. "Surprise me," he whispered with a smirk and shut the door.

oOo

Chloe was just sitting down in a quiet corner of the café when her phone began to buzz. The café seemed to be typically quiet and out of consideration, she had set her cell on _'vibrate'_.

Looking down, she quickly noted it was Clark.

"Hm, hello," she answered as quietly as possible.

"Hey listen, I talked to Oliver," Clark informed immediately.

Taking a sip of her almond mocha, Chloe listened carefully. "Great, what'd you find out?"

Clark took a deep, ominous breath. "Well, his people did discover that someone had attempted to hack your phone, several times in fact, but they intercepted and the hack was unsuccessful,"

"W-well," Chloe nearly heaved a sigh of relief "that's great—"

"Yeah, but you need to be more careful, Chloe," Clark interrupted quickly, his best lecture tone in place. "You might not get so lucky next time."

"True," Chloe nodded absently. "Of course, I'll be careful."

"Well, just so you know, we haven't seen any movement from Lex, so far," Clark added. "He seems to have been rather reclusive lately."

"Uh-oh," Chloe began, leaning her elbow onto the table and closer to her phone. "You know what that means—"

"Trust me, we're watching him more closely now than ever," Clark informed confidently and Chloe could practically hear his pearly white grin. "So at least do us a favor and try to watch your own ass."

"Hmmm," Chloe hummed with a grin. "Everybody and their concern for my ass. Hallmark seems to be missing out on a new market."

"C'mon, Chlo," Clark warned in his stern tone.

"Clark, it's okay," Chloe couldn't help saying. "I don't think I can take much more smothering," she chuckled lightly. "Here, let me call you back later, all right. I got a lot of work to do."

It was only as Chloe clipped her phone shut that she realized that the usually quiet café had become almost dead silent. Before she could even raise her head, a shadow fell across the table and she slowly looked up.

"Forgive me. I hope I'm not intruding."

She turned to meet dark eyes with dark brows that were just ever-so slightly lifted in question.

Chloe's own nearly did a split second bug-out; however she quickly recovered herself by immediately throwing up a mask of cynicism.

"Not at all," she replied with a single shake of her head. "Just talking to a friend," she added, her eyes clearly focused on the screen in front of her. "So, what are you doing here? Slumming?"

Not that she noticed, but Bruce managed a one-sided grin and simply waved her quip away. "Just getting a cup of coffee," he replied innocently.

"Counter's over there," she jerked a thumb behind her, never taking her eyes from the screen as she continued to plunk away on her keypad.

"Uh, excuse me," Chloe heard a feather light voice trill nervously.

To Chloe's utter disgust, she noticed that one of the girls behind the counter had decided to make a special trip. The girl seemed to have appeared from nowhere. She stared up at Bruce Wayne with great huge eyes and a gleaming smile.

"Can I get you anything, Mr. Wayne?" the young girl asked with a ridiculously humble tone.

Chloe rolled her eyes. No need to ask where the syrup was coming from.

He plucked carefully at his black leather gloves and once his hands were free of them, he simply gripped them in one hand and turned towards her.

"Grande Espresso, please," he replied smoothly. "And…what'll you have?" he directed at Chloe, effectively taking her off guard for a moment.

"Oh, no more for me," she said as she held up her own almond mocha…extra whip.

Bruce only turned and nodded.

"Right away," the girl trilled in a manner that Chloe found gut-churning. For a moment, she thought the girl just might curtsy like some milkmaid serf too gracious to be in the _"lord's_ "presence.

Bruce quickly took a seat and allowed himself the time to take in the sight of the young lady before him.

She wore a dark suit with matching slacks, a creamy lace bodice beneath her jacket. Her medium blonde hair half pulled up into a loose twist, with a few escaping wisps. Her jewelry was rather modest with a simple silver chain around her neck and pearl stud earrings. Not completely unlike her appearance at the gala.

'_Simple style with personality'_, he noted through his quick assessment. '_Very lovely'_, was a sudden follow-up appraisal.

Her eyes were trained on her laptop screen with a strained focus. She was typing furiously, taking a quick sip of her preferred drink every now and then.

She nearly caught him off guard when she suddenly glanced up. "You're still here?"

He couldn't help managing a smirk. "Disappointed?"

Chloe directed her gaze back to her screen. "It's a free country, Mr. Wayne. I imagine you can come and go as you please," she replied, her tone a bit overly blasé.

"Just taking in the scenery," his voice low and full of insinuation. He obviously had an appointment to keep and time was of the essence, so better to lay it on extra thick.

No dice though.

Chloe paused for a moment with a quick, skeptical glance. "I know your reputation for enthusiastically playing the field, but now you're beginning to sound like a dirty old man," she remarked casually.

Bruce pretended to find her comment amusing with a quick chuckle. "No harm in appreciating the sight of a beautiful woman," he replied as he leaned forward onto his forearms.

Chloe looked up then and pinned him with an obvious look of doubt."Mr. Wayne, by seven o'clock everyone knows what it means to be appreciated by you," she tossed back with a casual reference to the Entertainment news hour. "By the way, aren't the paparazzi practically salivating in anticipation of your rendezvous with the winner of '_Dinner date with Bruce Wayne'_?"

Bruce instantly lost his carefree appearance. He hated that expression.

Alfred had been using it incessantly thanks to her.

"So do you regularly pimp yourself out for charity?" Chloe added with inflection as she continued to type.

"Why? Interested?" he tossed back.

Chloe looked up and smiled. "Not in the slightest," she replied sweetly as she closed her laptop. "Besides, I'm sure I couldn't afford your services," she added as she rose and slid her laptop into her case.

Bruce quickly rose, staring down at her with a heavy gaze. "Oh, the price is always negotiable," Bruce replied with heavy innuendo.

Chloe gazed up at him in almost amazed wonder. His body language, his tone, nearly his entire demeanor said that he was every bit the glamorous philandering rake that he was portrayed by in the tabloids.

Yet her intuition wasn't picking up that vibe. Her internal warnings weren't going off in alarm. In the past, she'd been pretty good at sizing up someone just from an intuitive glance. But with this self-proclaimed playboy, she simply wasn't detecting any of that nonsense, no matter how hard he seemed to try.

Intrigued, Chloe cocked her head to the side with a smirk. "What do you want from me, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce ignored the question and took one step closer to her with suggestive intent. "Well, I know this great little Italian—"

Almost immediately, Chloe threw up a halting hand. "Sorry I asked," she replied, unable to stifle a giggle. A few bright flashes caught her eye and she couldn't seem to help glancing past him and through the window.

"Somehow, I think you already have your hands full with contestant number three," she commented with a slight snicker.

Bruce turned quickly and immediately caught sight of what appeared to be a very upset Ms. Mortimer who simply stood, arms crossed and leaning sharply into her right hip with the occasional flash bulb going off from behind her. She was practically glaring a hole through the glass.

"Good-bye, Mr. Wayne," Chloe giggled as she maneuvered around him. "And good luck."

Bruce could only watch as Chloe quickly exited and not without catching a scathing look from Ms. Mortimer as she passed.

He could see that Alfred was parked illegally and obviously quite occupied with something other than what was currently happening.

Putting on his best face, he quickly strode out of the café fully ready to do some obvious damage control, leaving his Grande Espresso behind.

oOo

_**Author's Note**: Please, let me know what you think of their interaction. If I need to do more or less of...anything. Just let me know something. _:-)


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's Note: Sorry it's been a while. This is mainly a little filler chapter. By the way, there is a new gentleman that I'm introducing, but I don't know whether to make him permanent or not. It's _**V **_from V for Vendetta, but before he becomes_** V** _obviously, so I get to play with him a little :-) Tell me what you think of him._

Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, DC comics or DC Vertigo.

oOo

To say that the tension in the air could be cut with the sharpest knife was cliché to say the least, but it was true.

Ms. Veronica Mortimer sat with her arms locked, legs tightly crossed and shifted away towards the car door, her chin slightly elevated and definitely out.

She was obviously not pleased.

Briefly casting a glance in her direction, Bruce could easily see that he was going to have to play up the charm if he was going to get through the rest of this evening unscathed.

"Hm, so do you normally chase silly little blonds while you're on a date with someone else?" she tossed haughtily as she pretended to continue gazing out the window, but Bruce could see she was delicately checking her make-up in the window's mirrored reflection.

Bruce feigned ignorance with an amused raise of his brows. "Is that what you thought I was doing?" he chuckled lightly.

Surprisingly, she turned to him with a stone cold look of disbelief and raised a manicured brow in challenge.

At that, he merely chuckled heartily. "No, no," he replied assuredly. "No, I was merely trying to order a coffee and the young lady recognized me and was simply trying to make small talk," he lied outrageously.

With that, he leaned towards and gazed longingly into her eyes. "Do you honestly think any woman could grab my attention away from _such_ an amazing beauty as yourself?"

For a beat, Bruce was beginning to think that she wasn't as ditzy as she sounded, for she still simply stared at him, her eyes betraying virtually nothing.

But then her face dissolved into a smile. "I knew that it had to be something like that," she replied as she leaned suggestively towards him.

"Hmm, now, where were we?" he murmured huskily, brushing his fingertips along her lean thigh.

"I do believe, sir, that you have reservations for two at The Plaza," Alfred quickly and loudly informed, effectively breaking the spell.

The young socialite absently crinkled her nose in Alfred's direction, while Bruce simply pretended not to notice as he smiled and nodded an _"okay"._

In order to maintain absolute decorum, Alfred had to contain his snarl of derision and privately gag on the inside. In order to take his mind off the Oscar winning performance going on in the back, he turned to the GPS tracking device that lay just beside him in the front seat.

However, he wasn't looking for directions on how to get to The Plaza. He grinned at first, feeling as if Master Wayne might count himself lucky that the lovely journalist was dedicated to a particular pair of shoes for he had placed a small tracking device as a cautionary measure to the bug in her phone.

Alfred was now watching as the blip was making its way to the other side of town, towards Gotham's Metropolitan Theater.

Raising an inquisitive brow, he felt that particular maneuver was intriguing.

"And the plot thickens," he mumbled with a smile.

oOo

Complete and utter bafflement.

That's where Chloe's head was now and it didn't need to be. In a matter of moments, she was meeting with an unknown informant and she needed all her ducks in a row, instead that were aimlessly wandering around the pond.

Of the all the strange coincidences, the very untouchable Bruce Wayne wandering into a very public, non-exclusive place of business and find his way to her little corner only to _act_ like he was trying to hit on her!

Chloe grinned a bit_. 'Maybe he actually read my extra tiny critique of his big gala from the other night'_, she thought with a delightful consideration.

The subtle glow ahead caught Chloe's attention and quickly all thoughts of Bruce Wayne were gone in an instant.

Glancing down at the GPS on her phone, Chloe recognized that she was coming close to her destination, but it wasn't as if she needed GPS to tell her that.

Chloe stopped amid the modest number of people that quietly perused up the down the street before Gotham's Metropolitan Theater.

She couldn't help standing in awe of the magnificence, not just of the building itself, but of its emanating ambience.

Such a subtle glow of light that filtered through the columns and panes of glass surrounded the building of classical Greco-Roman architecture seemed to romantically beckon to all comers and outsiders. Absently, she began to imagine what the Parthenon might have looked like in its heyday as the crown of the Acropolis, a veritable capital of the arts.

Such beauty in a city with such a foul reputation was inconceivable.

That thought brought her back to what she was doing here in the first place.

Quickly taking in the surroundings, she spotted a narrow alleyway beside the theater. Unassuming at best, but Chloe was certain that were she to look for her informant, that she most certainly would find him there.

After all, no matter how nice a place, they had to throw out their garbage somewhere.

oOo

Bruce kept glancing at his watch and he knew that he'd best try to stay focused on the dinner in front of him before his not-so-ditzy date would certainly begin to take notice. He was certain that there wasn't any possibility of trying to charm his way through the fact that he was watching the clock, especially not with this woman. This evening was for her and about her. Certainly, she would begin to take notice once she realized that he obviously had other things on his mind.

Just as they were exiting the vehicle, Alfred pulled him aside. "Gotham's Metropolitan Theater," was all he said and Bruce quickly nodded and continued inside The Plaza.

Outwardly, he smiled to all staff and those he recognized of the "upper crust", but inwardly he was bristling at the notion that somehow she decided to go the theater. His first inclination was that she was there to review a play or a musical and nothing more.

But her demeanor as he had noted thus far led him to believe that she was there for more than to take in a show. She had been concentrating fiercely on her work when he'd encountered her earlier and somehow he didn't find her taking in _Mozart's "The Marriage of Figaro"_ to relax.

Knowing he fully planned to learn of her purpose, he felt that same feeling of apprehensiveness each time he had to attend that theater for whatever reason-- if for nothing else-- to prove to the world that he need not allow its past history to fully affect his present.

"Bruce?"

The sharp inquiry quickly brought him out of his thoughts. He quickly jerked to find Veronica's brows drawn in confusion.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," he smiled. "For a moment, I was worried that something may have been wrong with the crab cakes. I'm sure I'm all right though."

Her brows drew closer in befuddlement. "Oh."

She focused on her dinner once again and Bruce quickly turned his head and squeezed his eyes shut in mortification.

"_Fabulous,"_ he thought ironically. _"Couldn't come up with anything better than indigestion?"_

Bruce managed to sneak another glance at his watch again.

He nearly wanted to roll his head in relief.

oOo

Even for the glow surrounding the theater, the alleyway behind the building was certainly full of shadows in the darkness. Chloe clutched the strap of her purse tighter as she edged higher onto her shoulder. Her tape recorder in place and out of view, she strained her eyes to peer into the shadows.

The "_gentleman_" on the phone wasn't forthcoming about his personal information, only to come at a specific time and to come alone.

A loud rattle of a glass bottle suddenly jerked her around. Coming from behind a dumpster, Chloe saw a small man in a hoodie, torn jeans and sneakers step warily towards her.

Feeling the same sense of apprehension, though she was certain that it wasn't for the same reason, Chloe took one decisive step after the next. "The fall in Gotham isn't just the weather," she called as she slowly approached.

For a moment, the strange man stood the quietly with his back to her. He made no sudden movement that he had heard her at all. He simply took out a cigarette in a lazy fashion, the blaze from his lighter barely illuminating his face.

Chloe was becoming a bit apprehensive the longer the silence wore on for fear that she may have the wrong guy.

"Yeah, well my ass ain't the only hole in Gotham, lady," he finally stated, his voice rather rough and grating.

Chloe only slightly blanched at that particular analogy and gripped the strap of her purse tighter.

"No one knows what's comin', lady," he added ominously, yet still staring down that the ground as he exhaled a great plume of smoke.

"Well, maybe you could enlighten me," Chloe replied strongly, yet trying to suppress her feeling anxious that her trip her was going to be all for nothing, except putting her in the wrong place at the wrong time. "Maroni is already making a move against what's left of Falcone's territory," she informed.

At that statement, the man began to walk away, deeper into the alleyway and Chloe was quickly on his heels. "There's talk of a mob war," she called out.

The man whirled suddenly, taking his cigarette between two fingers. "Shut up, lady," he shushed loudly, pointing at her, his eyes darting around the alleyway. He stepped closer to her. "Look, there are eyes and ears all over this city. One wrong word"—he made a slashing motion across his throat—"and that's it."

After a moment of silence, he finally spoke again. "Yeah, there is a mob war coming," he confirmed in a hushed tone. "Maroni thinks he's the only game in town to take over."

"And he isn't? There's someone new?" she questioned immediately.

The guy only shook his head at her sudden interruption. "No," he said quickly, his eyes darting erratically and Chloe was beginning to doubt the man's sanity.

"Listen," he instructed, his voice ominously low. "Falcone….he ain't dead."

Chloe shook her nonsensically. "I wasn't aware that…."

"No, no, no," he interrupted and shook his head fiercely. "Falcone's been hidin'. He's waiting," he warned and stepped closer. "He's gonna wait until Maroni gets comfortable and then…"

Suddenly, it seemed as if something caught his eye and he looked past her. His eyes became wide. Without a word, he turned and took off running down the alleyway until he disappeared into the darkness.

Chloe whirled and immediately began backing away from the dark figure coming toward her.

'_Not again'_, she thought desperately as she watched a tall figure striding towards her, flowing black cape billowing behind him. His image obscured by the shadows.

"Are you all right?" she heard a very blithe, sonorous voice call out as he approached.

It was so different from what she'd expected that she absently cocked her head to the side in puzzlement.

She cleared her throat, "Uh…yes. Thank you?"

His laugh was deep and resonant, bringing her a quick comfort that she might not be murdered in the back alley this particular night.

The light that once shadowed his face had become illuminated as he came to stand before her. His bright blue eyes clear even in the darkness.

Chloe's eyes swept up and down his odd costume in an obvious fashion so that he looked down at himself as well. He was dressed rather odd in an outrageous nineteenth century fashion with a great black cape, breeches, leather boots and gloves, and topped off with a crimson red shirt.

"Oh, yes," he muttered. "I'm sorry, but I decided to come dressed for rehearsal," he said, spreading his cape wide. "I had just happened to see you and felt that you might need some… assistance."

Chloe looked down, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth in a bashful smile.

"You seemed tense," he added as he searched her face.

"Uh…," she stumbled. "Yeah."

Suddenly, his eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh! Please forgive me. It is certainly none of my business," he said hurriedly. "Your life is certainly your own and please don't believe that I'm passing judgment---

Then Chloe understood suddenly. "No, no, no," she quickly interrupted. "I'm not a…pro," she amended quickly, bashfully. "But, thank you. Thank you for checking on me."

He swept up his cape and bowed in an elegant, yet ostentatious manner that prompted a smile from Chloe. "For so lovely a damsel, I should do it again."

And with that he quickly disappeared into the side entrance of the theater.

A wide smile upon her face, Chloe only shook her head.

But that smile quickly disappeared and she quickly whirled at the sudden rattling of cans from the back of the alleyway. A myriad of voices echoed roughly, indiscernible in the darkness.

Without thinking, Chloe quickly ducked behind a large dumpster. She turned to face the street where the crowd had dwindled to a scant few passersby. Still hearing the voices and feeling a mad dash coming on, Chloe slowly craned her head around the dumpster.

So far, nothing.

Not turning around should she spot some gang of vagrants and need to turn and run. Chloe began slowly backing away towards the street.

With complete concentration on the darkness of the back alley and sure she was almost there, Chloe suddenly felt a hand clamp down hard on her shoulder.

Without thinking, a pure shot of adrenaline prompted her to turn quickly, grabbed the offender's wrist and twisted sharply while plunging her fingers into the sensitive parts of their hand.

The objective being to hit that pressure point and disable the attacker long enough to get away.

'_Trust me, whoever they are, they _will_ stop what they're doing,'_ she remembered her instructor's words on this particular maneuver.

Yet in that moment, Chloe stopped her attack once she realized that she held a roughly gloved hand in her grip and understood immediately with whom she was faced.

"Oh," she nearly sighed in relief. "It's you."

He glared at her through shadowed eyes only shifting his gaze to where her hand still grasped his.

Chloe's eyes followed and abruptly let go as if she'd been burned.

"Sorry," she mumbled and immediately straightened her purse and clothing. "You know you really shouldn't sneak up on someone like that."

He only snorted in response.

Neither said a word, nor moved a muscle and Chloe found it rather unnerving. Her eyes pointedly darted around the alley. "Aren't you supposed to be tackling the deviants amongst Gotham's citizens?"

"Who says I haven't?"

Chloe's eyes popped open in shock. "Are—are you serious? Me—

"Why else would you be skulking in alleyways, hiding behind dumpsters," he growled back at her.

Her spine stiffened instantly at his not-so-silent accusation. Chloe boldly stepped closer to him so that she nearly felt his solidity within the two inches of space between them.

He didn't move away from her, only lowered his lids to look down at her.

Instantly aggravated by his smug demeanor, Chloe took in a deep breath and counted to ten. "Look, I _think_ I can respect what you're doing, but you're barking up the wrong tree," she said low and concise. "Worse things are coming up on the horizon for this city and if I were you, if I cared anything about this city…I'd worry about that," she added the last with emphasis and quickly maneuvered around him, no longer worried about being nabbed and too angry to care if he'd try to stop her.

"What do you mean?" he growled menacingly, fighting the urge to grab her and wring the information out of her.

She turned quickly, not stopping. "You want to know?" she asked and flashed a bright smile. "Subscribe to the Gazette."

And with that she strode onto the street and out of sight.

With a loud growl he turned and punched the dumpster. He didn't want to bully her, and he certainly didn't know her well enough to blackmail her should he decide to take the notion and he couldn't…wouldn't resort to terrorizing her.

He could feel it in the air. She was right. Something was coming.

Whether or not she was a part of it, he didn't know. But he wanted to know.

And that was what bothered him the most.

oOo

A/N: I didn't beta this closely so, if you noted discrepancies....sorry.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Author's Note:** Okay, boys and girls, I know it's short, but I hope it'll do for now. _

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own Smallville, DC Comics, ya-ya, etc. and all that jazz._

oOo

Oliver Queen wasn't one to simply sit on his rump when there were things to do. He'd been kept pretty busy for the last few months and he certainly had enough people to do the tasks for him if he took the notion. Lately, he had plenty enough on his plate at the moment with Chloe's secret move to Gotham, monitoring her mother at Clark's request, not to mention his pursuit in finding Lex Luthor in the anticipation of what was coming next and just exactly how it all connected.

The mere thought of it rushed his mind all at once and he pinched the bridge of his nose in vain as if to stave off the stressing confusion. Sure, he'd had the opportunity of going to Gotham recently and the idea of checking on Chloe _had_ crossed his mind, but there had been too much to do already and he knew Chloe would begrudgingly appreciate his effort only to insist that there was no need until she was blue in the face. So, in the end, he decided against going. Besides, it wasn't as if Wayne would have missed him anyway.

No, today was one day. This one day was _his_ day to kick back and relax. No worries, no work. While he might not get the chance to jet somewhere else in the world, at the moment his home with the stunning palatial outdoor living space designed like a Roman bathhouse would suffice. He simply wanted to stretch out in the sun and allow the heat to help him to relax.

Just as his lids were growing heavy and a blissful sleep within reach…a faint buzzing sound was whirring by his ear. Out of faint consciousness, he kept swatting at the offense, but still kept hearing the annoyance.

Finally recognition set it and he lurched up and turned to the table beside him. His phone was buzzing, blinking and dancing around the small table.

Oliver didn't even try to suppress a great groan of aggravation as he threw his head forward in disappointment. "This better be good," he grumbled as he picked up the phone, not even bothering to look at the I.D.

"Queen," he nearly barked into the receiver.

"She's gone, sir!" a panicked voice blurted.

He squinted in confusion. "Gone?" he repeated and shook his head.

"Someone must have gotten past them all. We arrived this morning and the guard…Mark…he's dead, sir. And the room… empty."

It all came back to Oliver in one panicked blow. He quickly leapt up and began towards the house. "I'm on my way," he informed quickly. "Get a CS unit. I want every inch of that facility covered."

"Right away, sir," was the intent response.

Oliver quickly clipped the phone shut as he approached his room. For a moment he stopped and stared at his closed phone.

He was going to have to call Clark.

He closed his eyes in dread and groaned.

oOo

_The calm before the storm...can Gotham ever be safe? _

"You're insane."

Chloe merely raised her eyebrows and bobbed her head in consideration as she continued to chew on her thumb. Walter's assessment as he perused her new article concerning the local mob activity wasn't far off the mark and she wasn't going to dispute it.

"And…?"

Walter merely grinned. "I gotta hand it to you, Hildy," he remarked with a chuckle…and a new nickname. "This is an amazing lead," he added.

Chloe paused for a moment in her thumb-chewing. "Yet somehow I feel a _'but' _coming on?"

"_But_…,"Walter merely raised an eyebrow of consideration. "Just the same, I think it's best to hold onto this for a couple of days."

Instantly, Chloe's eyes bugged out.

"Now hold on a minute before you have kittens," Walter began as he held up his hand to stop the tirade he knew was coming. "We need more than that," he referred to her article. "People in Gotham need to know more than to stay in their homes because of a mob war may be on the horizon. In this town, they'll be betting on who has the most cops on their side: the citizens or the mob."

Chloe took that into consideration.

"No," Walter shook his head. "They need to know someone is out there fighting for their side."

Chloe rolled her eyes instantly. She knew precisely where Walter was going. "C'mon Walt," she whined with a little too much emphasis. "So far all that most of my research shows about the Batman was that he was willing to sacrifice a few innocent people over that…that madman and for what?"

"So, go find out?" he replied with a casual wave of his hand. "Talk to Gordon, get a few street opinions, hell, talk to some of the staff around here," he suggested. "If you can come up with a companion piece to this, we'll have one helluva feature."

Chloe could only stand there, not sure whether to be furious or simply roll over in humiliation. Either way, she knew that she needed to cough up this piece or one of the most important stories of her career would likely never see the light of day.

Just as she turned towards the door, she heard Walter's chair roll. "Now, hold on a moment, Chloe," she heard him say and slowly turned back to face him.

"Look, I know you're not excited about this, but you've got to understand. Good or bad: the Batman gets everyone's attention," he informed with a mock look of apology.

Finally, she relented with a sigh. "Why do I get the feeling that this is the Walter that ran this place years ago," Chloe grumbled with a lopsided grin.

Walter merely titled his head to the side. "I don't know," he replied lightly. "Why is that?"

Chloe marveled at Walter for a moment. Did he just flutter his lashes at her?

"Okay," she sighed in defeat. "You win."

"Marvelous!" he exclaimed in mock excitement.

And with that, Chloe merely turned and walked out of his office. Plopping down at her desk, she took a moment to savor her blank mind. The urge to not pursue a companion piece on Batman was immensely great.

She had perused…okay, skimmed…some various scant articles that she could find on this Batman, but they were just as vague and mysterious as he seemed to be himself. However, she read many articles hailing this man as a hero of Gotham, despite his taste for the theatrics with outlandish costume and all.

Shaking her head, _'Man, I hope Clark doesn't decide to do that'_, she thought as she considered a brief break. Though the she was certain that the caffeine was no more than a psychological need at this point, at least she would _think _that she was getting a pick-me-up.

Maybe Ginny could be of some help, she thought with a bit of hope and that was just enough to make her confident enough that she could pop out a hum-drum piece by her standards anyway and still satisfy Walter.

Heaving an enormous sigh, Chloe slapped her hands onto her desk and rose as if she were attempting to hoist a heavy weight out of her chair.

The room was abuzz of activity and it was a slight comfort as Chloe went in search of her begrudging partner. If anyone who would shoot straight with her on anything in this town, then Ginny was certainly her go-to girl.

Dragging herself into the breakroom, Chloe felt immense disappointment as she realized that she had to deal with the Gazette's sub-standard coffee (something else she needed to talk to Walter about). Having to deal with this Batman was something she felt needed some serious stimulation.

As she doctored her coffee to her precise liking, Chloe couldn't help feeling a bit out of sorts. Why did Walter seem to expect her to be as fascinated by this Batman as everyone else? Of course, if he'd only known about her wall of weird…

The mild noise of the 24 hour news could in the background finally filtered through her thoughts and she realized someone was standing behind her.

"I'm sorry, I'll be out of your way in just a sec," she apologized as she gathered her coffee.

"Oh, I'm sure it'll be more permanent than that," she heard a mumble close behind her.

Chloe's head came up, her face screwed up in confusion and quickly turned to see who was behind her.

Steven Van Zant.

Chloe knew that he supervised much of the Gazette's political spectrum of the paper, nationally and locally. She hadn't been introduced formally, but she'd read a few of his articles. Very subdued, typically cynical.

"Excuse me?" she shot him a look of question, disbelieving what she'd just heard.

The man was blithe with a very typical look of smug assurance. "Don't worry, you'll find out what that means as you continue to slit your own throat," he remarked casually as he poured his own cup of coffee.

Chloe opened her mouth, but all that came out was a scoff of disbelief. "I'm sorry. Did the wrong side of the political spectrum _piss _in your Cheerios this morning?"

Steven merely looked at her with the lifted eyes of patronization as he stirred his coffee. "Look, you think that no one knows what you're doing. You think _they _don't know that you'll be coming after them with speculations…possible insinuations and, heaven forbid, actual _fact_," enunciating the last with a dead-set look in the eye.

Chloe frowned at his tone, his implication hitting an uncomfortable spot.

"You better watch your back, missy. The last, big idealist to come through this town was blown to hell along with her self-superior notions and her overzealous boyfriend," he chuckled with a sneer. "You can be certain that no one at this paper plans on going down for your journalistic ambitions."

Chloe couldn't help it as she cocked her head half a turn and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Careful, I might construe that as a threat, Mr. Van Zant."

"Consider it however you will," he replied coolly and then simply turned and walked away.

As she followed him with her eyes, Chloe could only look on in utter bafflement. What had brought that on?

"You know, as tight as that man's ass is, I didn't think it was possible for any sort of bug to crawl up there," she heard Ginny quip behind her.

Chloe snickered. "Maybe, it's just that it can't get out," she replied as she turned to Ginny.

"Whatever the case, don't let him get to you," Ginny said, her tone not nearly as mild as usual.

Chloe smiled a bit in surprise. "Why Ginny, I never knew you cared."

Ginny merely leveled her eyes on Chloe. "I don't," she replied casually and nudged her way to the coffee pot.

"Don't tell anyone, okay" she quipped quickly. "Did you need something?" she asked, getting off the uncomfortable moment.

"Uh, yeah…what are you doing for lunch?"

oOo

The fresh, cool breeze blowing in through the open windows of the farmhouse was a delightful treat after being cooped up in Chloe's apartment for days on end. Sweeping off the front porch, Clark gazed into the night sky, smiling as he actually saw stars and not just unending blackness.

Going back into the house, Clark kept straightening up around the kitchen. Every other night, once he was certain that the goons across the street had either fallen asleep or become engrossed in video games, he would quickly speed to the farm and a get a little work done before heading back.

With the windows open and the breeze filtering through the curtains, Clark took a deep, appreciating breath.

'_Ahh, peace and relaxation_,' Clark thought with a pleasing sigh.

"I haven't heard from her, Clark! I haven't heard from her," Lois informed in a quick panic as she burst through the farmhouse door with a loud slam.

Clark merely rolled his eyes as he pretended to carefully sweep the kitchen floor. He knew Lois had been trying to contact him for hours and had promised himself that he would call her first thing after he'd taken a few moments to himself.

"I'm sure she's fine Lois," Clark droned.

"She's not, she's not," Lois exclaimed hurriedly as she began to pace the kitchen in hurried steps. "Not even an email, Clark. I mean, who doesn't have time to send an email?"

"Lots of people, Lois," Clark sighed in exasperation. "Look, she's probably just been busy."

Lois stopped and leveled her eyes on Clark. "How busy can someone be on sabbatical, Clark?"

"You'd be surprised," Clark informed with a smile. "It's amazing all the things you can do when you don't have a ton of nuisance buzzing around your head," he added, his smile becoming broader. He was sure he'd never grow tired of teasing Lois.

Lois merely curled her lip at him and plopped down on one of the stools with a heavy sigh. "You know, you're probably right."

Clark's immense grin dropped off his face in shock. "Huh?'

"I drove her to this," she threw her hands out in front of her. "I harassed her for help constantly. I taunted her with my stories, I… "-she paused for a moment, seemingly speechless-"and she wouldn't even tell me where she was going," she finished, her voice beginning to falter with sadness and the grievous tone of regret.

For a moment, all Clark could do was watch Lois momentarily wallow in her own misery. He hated it when Lois actually showed her human side. Somehow it instantly made him feel sorry for her. "Look, Lois," he began, setting the broom against the counter. "I think you're giving yourself way too much credit," he said as he set himself on the other side of the counter from her.

"Chloe's been having a hard time lately and she just needed a break," he said as he settled his elbows on the counter.

Lois scoffed in disgust. "And that just goes to show you…" she tossed up her hand and let it slap against the countertop. "I couldn't even see _that_." She paused once again, staring blindly at the counter. "I was too busy with my head up my own backside," she added in a low whisper and threw her head to the counter in hopelessness.

Clark threw up an eyebrow of consideration at that, but quickly turned his attention back on Lois. "Seriously Lois, Chloe knows that you're not her keeper. She's a big girl and she can take care of herself. Which is _exactly _what she's doing," he said with emphasis, and placed his hand over hers in a comforting gesture.

Lois' head came up sharply, mouth hanging agape as she looked from Clark's comforting blue gaze to where his hand lay on hers.

Clark, watching, quickly jerked his hand away and pushed away from the counter. "I-I- I'm sure you'll hear from her soon."

Lois merely raised her eyebrows in lackluster consideration and for a moment, a silence fell between them. Just when Clark thought it couldn't get any more uncomfortable, a buzz from Lois' jacket pocket caught his attention.

"Oh!" she exclaimed in surprise as she reached into her pocket. "That reminds me…the strangest thing. Oliver's been trying to find you," she informed, her face scrunched in puzzlement. "You have any idea what that's about?"

oOo


	15. Chapter 15

_**Author's Note:** Once again, another short one, but I really wanted to get something out there. I really couldn't think of anything else to add to these last couple of chapters. Hope they don't disappoint too much. _

_**Disclaimer**: I don't own Smallville, DC Comics...or Family Guy, etc. _

oOo

Chloe gripped her shiny red tumbler close to her lips and simply stared out at the city over the dark lid, occasionally taking a sip of her coffee that was still very warm within its insulated confines. She'd been up here for a while, but only because she'd become so distracted within her apartment. Chewing on her lip, she could only stare at the blank screen with her mind equally empty.

For only a moment, she had allowed her eyes to wonder around the studio apartment hoping to catch a stray thought, but instead she had noticed that she'd meant to paint the trim around the windows. Shaking her head of the thought, Chloe tried to refresh her mind and managed to crane her head around the room to find that the kitchen could stand some color. That consideration by itself brought on the sudden thought that she'd had big plans for the bedroom area of her apartment. But she'd never had the time since she'd arrived in Gotham.

"Ugh!" she scoffed, shaking her head and leapt out off of her chair. _'Damn Walter!'_ was her next thought as she shuffled into the kitchen. Grabbing her tumbler, she poured it full of fresh coffee. She'd anticipated that she would be up late and she was going to need all the momentum she could get. Just to grasp the tiniest bit of inspiration, she kept recalling her conversation with Ginny earlier today.

"_Everyone all thought he'd come to save Gotham," _Ginny had informed at their impromptu lunch.

"_And no one thinks that now?"_ Chloe queried, shaking her head in confusion while simultaneously amazed at the way Ginny was subtly crawling out of her shell as she tried to convey the events of the last year or so.

"_Well…it's hard to say. I was never convinced he killed those people,_" Ginny said as she took a sip of her drink.

Chloe nearly spit her own drink out. "_He killed someone?"_ she blurted.

"_No…not directly…or that's the way a lot of people were talking_," Ginny replied quickly, but continued to stumble a bit in her effort to explain.

"_I'm afraid that I don't understand,"_ Chloe shook her head as she spoke.

"_Okay…I'll try, but things were a bit out of sorts for everyone. No one really seemed to know what was happening from one minute to the next…."_

By the time Ginny was finished, Chloe was more confused than ever.

In the beginning, it sounded as though Batman had caught everyone's attention well enough and had made the front page of every paper in Gotham. But as speculation grew with unfounded claims, interest began to wane until finally the papers no longer went too much in depth, just simply the occasional report on Batman's nightly crime fighting activities and what how Batman was going to continue to help the city.

The city seemed content to allow Batman to clean up for them and after them. There didn't seem to be too much effort put forth into finding out who the man was and why he chose to appoint himself Gotham's guardian.

Now she really needed to get her thoughts sorted out.

It was a bit colder this night than usual, so Chloe had simply stuffed her feet into a pair of fluffy slippers, shrugged into her coat and wound a plush scarf about her neck and stepped out onto her fire escape to climb to the roof of the building.

And here she was, suddenly engrossed in the thoughts of what would provoke any human being to play dress up and fight crime. Oliver briefly came to mind, but even he didn't seem to be as dedicated as this guy. Oliver was dedicated to finding Lex, while this person was dedicated to a whole city.

She recalled their last encounter. He'd virtually accused her of being a clandestine criminal and she'd felt her stomach dive into a sickness that came with her anger. Prior to that, he had saved her life. But his accusation had led more towards a negative bias towards him and she was purposely and unprofessionally ignoring him.

Before that, she'd never truly considered him. She'd encountered far weirder individuals since she was a freshman in high school. Perhaps it was time for a little examination.

Was he a man? A meteor freak that had discovered a new ability? Could he be like Clark, an alien with superhuman abilities, another Kryptonian?

In all the articles she'd come across, no one had addressed these issues, but had only be intrigued by the mystery and thankful for his effort in helping the city, but that's where it ended. No one seemed to explore the man, if that's what he indeed was, himself?

But even after all that, Chloe couldn't help but to keep going back to the fact that he'd bugged her phone in addition to accusing of her being a criminal.

Staring out over the city, she wondered for a moment. Was he out there? What was he doing and why?

He wasn't unlike the Andrea a few years ago in Metropolis. With that thought, Chloe remembered how she and Clark went all over the city trying to provoke the Angel of Vengeance out of hiding by way of her playing the victim to Clark's mugger.

Just when she thought of throwing on some real clothes to go bat-hunting, a queersome prickly feeling crept up her spine quickly bringing goosebumps on the back of her neck.

Feeling that her back was vulnerable, Chloe whirled only to find the very subject of her thoughts staring back at her from the darkness on the other side of the rooftop.

Silently surprised to see him, Chloe couldn't quite muster the gumption to get an exclusive. "Hmm, what a coincidence," she grumbled.

He did nothing. Said nothing. Just simply stared at her.

"So to what do I owe the honor?" Chloe said with blithe sarcasm as she took a few steps toward him, swinging her coffee tumbler.

Still he said nothing, only slid one foot behind him, angling himself into a defensive posture. His eyes seeming to be very wary of her presence.

Chloe recognized the movement for what is was for she had seen it numerous times within her own reflection at the dojo where she had begun her own training. Immediately, she stopped.

"You've got to be kidding me," she scoffed with cynicism and instantly became angrier at his constant implication that she was some kind of strange threat.

"You know, you've got a lot of nerve facing me again," she began, meandering toward him at a leisurely pace. "You put a bug in _my_ cell phone and somehow, _I'm_ the criminal?" she asked, her voice rising with inflection.

His shadowed eyes squinted a bit in the darkness.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she feigned surprise, her eyebrows rising somewhat. "Obviously, since I'm such a menace to society with my diabolical plan to conspire with pink ninjas to overrun Gotham's streets with little marshmallow bunnies dusted with crack, then I must be an amazing mastermind."

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" she shot at him while he continued to watch her carefully as she came to stand in front of him.

He continued to say nothing and his silence was infuriating. Chloe would stand no more. "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but you have absolutely no right to invade my private life!" she half-shouted up at him and jabbed a finger into his chest.

Chloe was surprised that he didn't move away from her or attempt to keep her from touching him. He didn't strike as the sort of guy that was one to be trifled with, no matter how much it helped to get her aggravation off her chest in whatever form. He simply continued to stand there, as if assessing her, sizing her up in some capacity.

How dare he?

"I don't know what has made you think that you can appoint yourself Gotham's grand knight in shining….what is that?" she broke off, momentarily distracted, but continued to prod his chest. "Kevlar?"

He ignored her question, but simply took a step back from her only to turn as if to walk away.

"This city thinks you've come to save it from itself," she threw at his back. "I'm beginning to think differently."

He turned to look at her once again. "Is that so?" he finally said, his voice rough.

"Yeah," Chloe replied, her eyes wide with surprise that he finally spoke. "For all that you pretend that you're fighting for justice in this city, I somehow keep finding you in my business."

He continued to say nothing, but only smirked at her.

His bemused expression was infuriating. "Don't mistake me, Mr. Who-or-whatever-you-are, one misstep and I'll make it my personal mission to take you down," she added the last threateningly, and another poke to his chest. "I'll expose the truth about you so fast that when I get through, you'll need an old priest and a young priest."

The one side of his mouth turned up a bit more, increasing the smugness of his expression. "You're on," he challenged.

oOo

"What?" Clark's voice resonated throughout Chloe's apartment and Oliver closed his eyes against it.

"I'm sorry, Clark," he professed as he watched Clark begin to pace the floor. "I don't know how it was even possible," he continued, his tone emphatic. "I had every precaution taken, each security measure checked and double-checked."

"You know what this means, don't you?" Clark asked, rhetorical or not.

Oliver merely nodded.

"We've got to find her," Clark declared.

"Don't you think we need to tell Chloe?" Oliver countered.

"No, no," Clark replied quickly. "That's what he'll be expecting us to do," he added and then stopped his pacing, his mind began racing through all the known possibilities and procedures that he knew Lex would cover. "He still thinks she's here," he began, pointing down to indicate the apartment. "And if he even so much as has inkling that the apartment is vacant…"

"Wait, wait a minute…I don't understand," Oliver said, shaking his head at first. "You all have been staging the apartment? How? You know that you can't risk anyone blowing her cover," he informed.

At that question, all panic was gone from Clark in brief instant as he turned to Oliver with a big smile. 'Come with me," was all Clark said.

oOo

Clark simply sat on Chloe's couch, legs crossed as he leisurely flipped through a magazine. After a few minutes, Clark checked his watch. Oliver certainly was taking his time.

Just as he was about to shout at Oliver, he heard the bathroom door click open.

"Well, Oliver," he began as he rose from the couch with a smile. "How do you feel?" he asked as he turned just in time to be greeted with six-feet three inches of pink fluffy robe and blond waves.

Clark knew he hadn't smiled quite like this in a long, long time.

Oliver stared back at Clark with a derisive expression. "I feel right, Clark," he replied, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "I feel right."

Clark couldn't stop his chuckle and shook his head unapologetically. "Hey, I'm sorry," Clark replied, throwing up his hands. "You know that I can cover more ground than you and I can't afford to leave anything to chance. Not when we're this close."

Oliver only sighed in exasperation, blowing the bangs of the wig out of his face. "How can this be believable?"

"Well, for starters, this usually helps," he replied and tossed an unusual object at Oliver.

Oliver quickly caught what looked like…

"Aw, c'mon!" Oliver's shoulders dropped. "A mud masque?"

"And don't forget to walk on your knees sometimes," Clark added as he grabbed his jacket.

"Tell me again why we can't get Lois to do this?" Oliver called out as Clark was going out the door.

oOo

A/N: _Hope it wasn't too sloppy_.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Author's Note**: Thanks guys for all the lovely reviews. I hope this one is just as well recieved, though I do feel something is missing in my writing as of late. If you guys find it, let me know :-)_

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Smallville, DC Comics, etc._

oOo

"Very nice, Doctor."

Merely a grunt from Hugo Strange was the only response to the appraisal regarding the room designed specifically for his new patient. "My staff has done their best to accommodate your expectations, Mr. Luthor," he replied as he gazed down at the woman who was blissfully oblivious to the world.

The room had been equipped with all the standard medical equipment in addition to a few frivolous comforts. Against Strange's professional advice, he found that plush, colorful furniture adorned a small conversation area of the room along with an atypical bed equipped with a thick mattress and soft linens. The walls were painted with bright colors while mahogany wainscoting wrapped about the room. Even the windows had some stain glass design of a fiery bird with wings outstretched, flying into the sun.

"I fail to see the purpose in all of this," he waved his hand about to indicate the room.

"Aw, come now, Doctor. Haven't you heard that our environment is a mirror of our attitudes and expectations," Lex said, his voice full of mock optimism as he slowly paced about the room, his hands in his pockets. "How soon can you get started?" he asked as he quickly glanced at the folder in the doctor's hands.

Strange smiled, "I'm certainly eager to get underway as soon as possible."

"Excellent," Lex replied, his voice betraying absolutely nothing but his strict professional attitude. "I'm sorry; I won't be able to stay in Gotham very long to monitor her progress." Lex turned his back to the doctor. "I'm afraid I have other things in which to attend."

"You can be rest assured, Mr. Luthor," Strange began. "That she will be in the best of care."

Lex turned on the ball of his foot. "Oh, for what I'm paying, I certainly have no doubt, Doctor Strange," he replied. "Absolutely…no doubt."

Strange flipped open her chart and began perusing through the papers. "I may run a few tests of my own. Though I must say, her file doesn't read typical of a patient that has been in a catatonic state for the last several years."

Lex looked down at the floor to hide his knowing smile. "Well, her case is far from typical, Doctor."

Strange looked up from the file, his fingertips gripped his glasses. "How long have you been acquainted with this case?"

Lex stood at ease as he settled his eyes on the Doctor. "That's none of your concern right now. The sooner you begin, the closer you could become to one of the greatest medical breakthroughs since the polio vaccine."

Stange said nothing, but continued to eye the young man. Though his curiosity was great for how this particular man was related to the case he held within his hands, but his eagerness to begin his study was greater still.

"Very well," was his only reply. "We'll get started right away."

"Very good, Doctor," Lex smiled, obviously pleased. "I want to see a daily progress report in my email every morning until I am able to return. My assistant will be contacting you with all the necessary information."

"As you wish," Strange droned as the young man brushed past him.

Far be it from him to put up an argument. The young man had made it no secret that any opposition that he might face regarding the matter would result in immediate pulling of all funds that was allowing him to face some of strangest, yet most challenging cases he'd ever faced in his career.

"Nurse," Strange called through the intercom. "Let's get Mrs. Sullivan comfortable."

oOo

Alfred heard voices echoing over the roar of the waterfall before the lift finally touched down at the bottom of the cave beneath the mansion. The cool moisture in the air hit him as he stepped out with a steaming hot breakfast and an already read newspaper wadded as neatly as possible on the tray in his grip.

"You know, I don't think I'll ever get used to all this," Alfred heard Lucius remark as he approached the two men around the corner.

"It certainly does take some bloody well getting used to," Alfred commented as he came upon the CEO of Wayne Enterprises.

Bruce merely ignored Alfred's remark and turned to Lucius. "I'm surprised you haven't beat me to it," Bruce commented.

"Well, she certainly is an affable young lady," Lucius grinned as he gathered his belongings. "Which is why I thought I'd leave it you," he added with a smirk and a twinkle in his eye.

Bruce merely exhaled his amusement through his nose.

"I imagine if you need my help—" Lucius began.

Bruce nodded immediately. "I'll let you know," he finished.

With that, Lucius gave a singular nod towards Bruce and grinned at Alfred before turning to leave. "Oh, and don't forget," Lucius turned quickly. "You've got a meeting with Lex Luthor tomorrow morning."

"Yay," Bruce groaned absently as he began to boot up his system.

As Alfred set down the tray next to Bruce's work station, he noted immediately the picture of the same journalist that Bruce had somehow become taken with was displayed, yet again, on the computer screen.

For whatever Bruce thought of the girl, Alfred certainly found her columns entertaining enough. Today's had been a short critique on the local authority in Gotham and how they were most comparable to the finest law enforcement found only in Hazzard County that could be seen each night on CMT.

"Are you still pestering that poor girl?" Alfred questioned upon seeing the girl's picture. "The last I checked, the Joker is still out there somewhere, while you're in here playing the match game."

"I need to know for sure that I can eliminate her as a connection," Bruce stressed, pointing at her picture with his hand. "I can't leave any stone unturned, Alfred. For all we know, she could be a decoy."

"Then she's obviously doing her job fairly well," Alfred quipped which immediately drew a sideways glare from Bruce.

Bruce simply turned back to the screen. With one punch of a button, the screen began scanning various images so quickly it was nearly a blur. Bruce absolutely refused to tell Alfred that he'd specifically gone last night to see her again. He smiled to himself in remembrance of their latest meeting. The mere fact that she stood there in a fluffy robe and slippers firmly declared that she was going to _"take him down"_ was so laughable that he found it practically adorable. He also didn't dare say _that _to Alfred either. Knowing Alfred, he'd begin placing wagers with Lucius… against _him_.

A quick, soft beep indicated that the software landed on a match.

Bruce grinned as he stared at the side-by-side images. "Now, we're getting somewhere."

oOo

Chloe sat in front of her screen with new motivation. Coffee cup was full, a single plate loaded with a few brownie bites, and an entire marathon of _"Law & Order"_ running on the _Sleuth Channel_ in the background. Chloe was ready to spend several hours in her research of this Batman that seemed intent on shining his criminal busting light in her direction.

The bizarre and inexplicable, as Lionel Luthor had put it, was what had landed in her this position in the first place. All of her encounters with meteor freaks and their abilities, her own best friend being an alien from another planet of which he had friends, family….and enemies.

Taking her hands off the keyboard, Chloe stared off into space, the unhappy weight of her thoughts coming down on her most unwillingly.

She, herself, was a meteor freak. She had warred with herself since that sudden discovery nearly a year ago. At first, all that she had wanted was for it all to go away. She didn't want to hear, see, much less report anything regarding meteor freaks and so much so that she had unwittingly placed her life into the hands of immortal wackjob only to be cured.

And then she had swung the other direction into offering to take over Lana's _Isis Foundation_ along with her work at the _Planet_ to the point that Chloe had felt she'd found a happy medium. During that time, unbeknownst to Chloe, it had landed her back onto Lex's radar. Thus, here she was, trying to rehabilitate her journalism career.

Yet, despite her effort to avoid those circumstances, it seemed insistent on finding her anyway. Only just since she had arrived, Chloe hadn't lived quite up to her potential in investigating this Batman, not like she might have had he turned up in Metropolis and under different circumstances.

Truthfully, in light of bigger things, she had found the whole ordeal a waste of her time.

But he just couldn't let well enough alone and if that be the case, then she was going to build her own against him. Not for pure spite, but just something to keep in her back pocket.

A quick buzz and Chloe didn't even break her line of vision as she picked up her cell. "Yeah," she nearly barked into the phone, obviously expecting this particular phone call.

"Okay, it took some doing, but I manage to scrounge up all my pictures. This guy isn't easy to photograph, you know," Ginny grumbled from the other end of the line. "And just because I'm feeling generous-"Chloe rolled her eyes with a smile. Yeah, she certainly sounded as though she were feeling generous. –"I also added the related stories to each picture published with each article."

"Oh, thank you," Chloe crooned into the phone. "You're the best!"

"Yeah, yeah," was a typical reply. "Brace yourself. Here they come."

And with a click, Chloe watched in that instant, all the files being sent and loaded.

She smiled. "Now, we're getting somewhere."

oOo

"Chloe Gabrielle in Metropolis in 1986, moved to Smallville in 2000, Graduated Smallville High," Bruce mumbled as he perused through Chloe's information. "Editor of the high school newspaper, 'The_ Torch'_," he said giving a singular knowing nod. "No surprise there."

"Voted most likely to succeed," he continued as he scrolled through her high school information.

"Prom Queen?" his brow shot up and he gave a crooked smile. "Strange."

"Not so strange, sir," Alfred remarked defensively behind him. "She's certainly attractive enough."

Bruce simply shook his head. "That's not what I mean," he said. "She doesn't strike me as the type."

"And, exactly, what type does she strike you?"

oOo

"Wow."

Chloe sat absently popping brownie bites in her mouth, eyes glued to her computer screen. "How did I miss all this?" she muttered to herself in surprise.

This Batman had been willing to travel all the way to Hong Kong, China to retrieve a criminal that had been operating in the city. Prior to that, he'd taken down a large group of unknowns that had intended on destroying the city. And the Joker…

Chloe had shuddered at the televised images of that maniac that she'd unfortunately had run into nights ago. The Joker…so that's what they called him?

'_Appropriate'_, she thought wryly.

The nut job had killed for sport and put an entire city under panic to the point of evacuation.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if the mob was small potatoes compared to this lunatic.

"Why would anyone want to take on something of this magnitude?"

oOo

"It's hard to say."

Bruce leaned his chin onto his fist and stared with thoughtfulness at the myriad of photographs, each portraying Chloe in various _Torch_ articles, always bright and beaming with the occasional quirky smirk. She certainly didn't strike as a beauty queen type: miles of fake smiles vainly attempting to cover the shallowest of personalities.

Her high school articles were certainly held a wit and humor of snarky teenage girl only slightly beyond her years. Bruce mumbled low to himself as he continued to peruse all information available. Many files had been placed under a high security clearance and were unable to be hacked for the moment. What could've been in a mere high school paper that required files to be placed under such classification?

He'd found that she'd interned at the Daily Planet twice during high school. Once again, another interesting column titled _"Sullivan's Travels"_ and began something of a career as she had started college.

Maybe Alfred had been right all along. Everything seemed certainly clean and legit thus far. So, why all the encrypted files during her academic career?

Whatever the case, this Chloe Sullivan was certainly becoming intriguing all on her own.

Perhaps a closer look was in order.

oOo

She felt like a moron.

Chloe practically had her nose pressed to the screen of computer to the point that the pixels were simply a blur of color. Ginny wasn't exaggerating at all. All Chloe could discern was a black-winged blob.

There was absolutely no way to tell what he was doing or how he was doing it. He was like Houdini: now you see him, now you don't. What kind of person would want to create this sort of cloak and dagger routine?

Law enforcement, perhaps? Seemed logical.

Chloe sat back in her chair, chin resting on her hand. Her eyes squinted in concentration as Walter's words began to truly sink in. Perhaps she should go to Commissioner Gordon.

oOo

"Perhaps, it isn't a type of girl, but a certain girl that she may remind you of," Alfred carefully suggested.

Bruce didn't turn around, didn't reply, but only stared at the screen with the girl's stats. Perhaps, in a way, this Chloe seemed a little like Rachel.

Bruce closed his eyes in thought. Rachel had tried so hard to champion the rights for the citizens of Gotham. She had made it her personal mission to go after the mob and she'd found a kindred spirit, as well as other things, in the former and late district attorney.

Bruce lowered his head for a moment. He hated when his mind wondered to that very real, very dark place where Rachel was no longer a shining spot on this earth and it had all been because of him.

Looking back at the computer screen, he felt strongly compelled to learn as much about this girl as possible.

No matter what.

oOo

_**Author's Note:** By the way, I don't know Chloe's middle name or if there is one floating out there. I thought Gabrielle was appropriate though._


	17. Chapter 17

_**Author's Note:** Just to warn all of you, this isn't very good. It's filler at its best. Hopefully, it'll be a decent catalyst for greater scenes to come though. I've been rather lazy lately and this chapter will terribly prove it. I hope you won't be too disappointed. Thanks for hanging in there with me though. _

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Smallville, DC, etc. _

oOo

This office was far nicer than she would've thought for the police commissioner in Gotham City. Traditional tastes of dark mahogany surrounding the walls and staining the furniture and law enforcement depictions adorning the wall with plaques of achievement from years past. She had a full view of the city from where she sat on the opposite side of the commissioner's desk. From those windows, the city almost looked harmless. Just regular people coming and going, maybe to work, perhaps to pick up their children or going on a date.

In that moment, Chloe began to feel just the tiniest bit guilty. Her intention had been a no holds barred interview with the head of the police department. She fully planned to expose the unit for what he was and was not doing. Now she was beginning to feel herself softening up a bit.

Chloe quietly examined the older man from her side of the desk. He was on the phone; a call that had to be taken for which he'd apologized. For a moment, she wondered what Commissioner Gordon saw when he looked out those windows. He'd seen the underbelly of this city; he knew what horrendous activity that took place in Gotham on a daily basis. For a moment, Chloe was sorry for him in that he couldn't live life in ignorant bliss, but his job had been to try to allow the rest of the people in this city to live as normal a life as possible.

A click of the phone caught her attention. "I'm sorry for that," he apologized with a sigh. "We stay pretty busy around here these days," he added, his tone very subdued to the point of hopelessness.

"I understand," was all she could say. "To be honest, I was rather surprised that you agreed to meet with me today."

"Well, you know, it can be rather difficult to find time to crack down on Gotham's underworld while we try to swindle innocent farmers of their land," he cracked in reference to her latest article criticizing Gotham's finest.

Outwardly Chloe didn't flinch, but on the inside she did feel the slightest bit of regret for coming down so hard on them. She couldn't back down now.

"Commissioner Gordon," she began, leaning towards him. "Surely you of all people aren't going to deny that there have obvious indiscretions in various units of your department.

Gordon leaned back in his chair, placing his hand under his chin. "No," he shook his head. "No, I can't—_won't_ deny that. However, the press smearing the entire unit for the actions of a few is disparaging. Not only for the city, but for cops that are doing double-time to be damn good, honest cops to make up for a few bad apples."

"Like you?"

At that, he said nothing, only looked at her for a moment as if trying to discern whether she was asking a question or simply being a wiseass. "Look, Miss…uh…"

"You can call me C.G., for now, "Chloe said quickly.

Gordon clinched his brows for a merely a second, but relaxed and leaned forward onto his desk. "What is it you're really here for?"

Chloe was almost reticent to just come right out and spill. In her own mind, she could hear herself and it sounded ridiculous. "What can you tell me about your department's association with…the Batman?"

Gordon froze solid in his chair. He didn't move, didn't speak, and Chloe was pretty sure he might've stopped breathing for a second. He simply stared at her.

"The Batman," he repeated in an even tone.

Chloe simply stared at him, unblinking, her uplifted brows saying that she was waiting for him to elaborate.

Gordon paused after emitting a quick sigh and leaned back into his chair. "There isn't much to tell," he claimed quickly, with a casual toss of his hand. "Our investigation is still in progress, but we haven't found any suspects—"

"With all due respect, Commissioner," Chloe interjected quickly. "Save me the cock 'n' bull denials. One minute Gotham can't get enough of this man and the next they're running after him with axes and pitchforks."

She watched as he quickly glanced down at his desk and then back to her.

"And you're department was spearheading the manhunt?"

"We are here to serve and protect," he remarked.

At that, Chloe grinned with a wry twist. "Apparently, only when the mob isn't involved," she blurted.

"Okay, this interview is over," he announced quickly as he shoved away from his desk and stood up quickly.

Chloe jumped to her feet. "So you're going to stand there and tell me that you were working with this man and now you're working against him with no rhyme or reason?"

"He let five people die," Gordon stated matter-of-factly.

"So the reports say," she said quickly.

Gordon was silent as he strode towards his office door.

Chloe only followed him with her eyes. "Most of the people in Gotham were either ready to praise him or condemn him. Why did you decide to make the call to hunt him? Did he threaten you?"

Gordon stood silent, his hand on the doorknob, staring at the opposite wall.

Chloe eyed him closely. He'd become disturbed instantly and now he was exhibiting all the signs of a man torn between loyalty and responsibility.

"You don't believe he did it, do you?"

His eyes flew to hers, his expression obviously torn. Still, he said nothing.

Chloe cocked her head to the side, the wheels turning with amazed realization. "Well, well," she murmured. "Another piece of the puzzle."

oOo

Lex couldn't help scoffing as he stood alone within the Wayne boardroom at the top of Wayne Tower. _'All this power and wealth,'_ Lex thought as he stared out the windows over the city of Gotham, _'and Wayne is willing to let someone else run his company.'_

Lex had been keeping up with Wayne Enterprises within the last few years. Wayne Enterprises was surpassing major corporations with risky investments and receiving even greater returns. Their current government contract was what attracted Lex to Gotham in the first place. Wayne Technologies was currently in process of the advancement of medicine.

Lex had immediately become intrigued.

"Sorry for the delay, Mr. Luthor," Lucius called as he entered from the opposite end of the very long boardroom.

"Lucius," Lex greeted warmly and strode towards him with an extended hand.

"It's been a long time," Lucius said giving Lex's hand a firm shake. "I was sorry to hear about your father," Lucius quickly added, his eyes lifting with a sense of sadness and a twinge of discomfort. "He was certainly…"-Lucius seemed to search for the words—"a force to be reckoned with in the corporate world."

Lex merely lowered his head with a grin of irony. "Don't worry, Mr. Fox," he began. "My father's death was tragedy to many and a joy to others. I hold no pretense to my father's actions to his subsequent decisions."

Lucius looked away for a moment. "For whatever your father was, he was merely human, just like the rest of us," Lucius finally said, hoping to bring a sense of comfort to the conversation…as well as to Lex, even if he didn't fully trust the boy.

"Which brings me to why I'm here," Lex quickly diverted to a different subject as he turned back towards the window. "I've begun to notice that Wayne Technologies has become quite the talk of the corporate gossip hounds. Word has it that you've begun some amazing research regarding what makes us human."

Lucius grinned with confusion. "And that is…?"

Lex turned back to Lucius. "Mortality."

Lucius raised his brows in brief acknowledgement. "Well, yes, Wayne Technologies is currently doing a great deal of research concerning diseases such as cancer, HIV,--"

"What if I told you that I have found the cure to all of our human ills? A veritable ambrosia of the gods."

Lucius' disbelief couldn't be masked at such a frivolous declaration. "What?"

Lex smiled and stepped closer with eager intent. "Lucius, I am…more than willing…to offer a joint venture in LuthorCorp's newest project with full benefits and recognition going to Wayne Technologies as soon as we have viable project."

Lucius' eyes furrowed a bit. "Just what is it that you're doing, Mr. Luthor," he asked with cautious curiosity.

Lex opened his mouth, but closed it with a smile and an exhaled at a loss for words. "Well, we've been keeping this rather hush-hush. You know….the press and everything. I mean, if word got out of what we were doing…" Lex trailed off and his grin broadened.

Lucius held his eyes on the floor as though weighing and considering what Lex was truly saying. Looking up finally, Lucius smiled. "Well, let me look at what we have our hands into and I'll be glad to confer with you some more concerning the issue."

Lex merely nodded.

"It was good seeing you again," Lucius finally said and held his hand out to the boy.

Lex grasped Lucius' offered hand with a firm shake. "Likewise," he replied. "Tell Bruce to give me a call. I won't be in Gotham for much longer."

Lucius raised his brows. "Oh?"

"Well, being the prime shareholder and CEO…well, look who I'm talking to," he said with a chuckle.

"Yeah," Lucius drawled. "I'll pass that message along."

"Great."

And with Lex left Wayne Enterprises with more than suspicion that he probably wouldn't be getting that phone call, but no matter. He would make certain that he knew all about what Wayne Technologies had their "hands in".

As he walked through the plate glass doors and onto the busy street, Lex took out his phone and flipped it open. "Mac," he said conversationally. "Meet me at the airport. I think we need to talk about paying Wayne Technologies a visit."

oOo

Ditching work early, Chloe decided that it was time she finally began a class that would help her pick up where she left off in Metropolis. Amazingly enough, she did find a dojo that was named for Japan's most renowned warrior, Bokuden. While she had proven herself a mildly capable fighter in tight situations, it seemed that she was getting closer calls than she would've liked, thus a new passion had been born.

Of course, Lana had been a small inspiration. For the most part, Chloe kept telling herself that if Lana could muster up the gumption, well, then she could too.

Quickly, she came through the doors with express intent on getting to class early, but found her eye to be caught by one particular person among the many that walked up and down the street in front of the _Gazette_.

He stood still, quietly, with his hands shoved into his long dark coat. For Chloe, he seemed to be as any other businessman walking up and down the streets of Gotham, but there was something in his stance that caught her eye.

He was impeccably dressed. A fine, dark woolen coat. A silk scarf gently tucked in and around the collar, straight-lined trousers finished with shiny, patent leather shoes. His shoulders squared and pulled back straight, expression cool and relaxed.

She couldn't miss it, not after the night in the café where he'd supposedly just happened to run into her.

Chloe was a bit surprised and a little confused, which showed as she looked around her and behind her. "You lost?" she asked, still confused.

Bruce exhaled a chuckle, his warm breath blowing into the cold air. "I was, uh, waiting for you…actually," he replied with a grin.

Chloe's brows knitted together. "Me?" she inquired, quickly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Why? Don't you usually have your lawyers take care of perpetrators of unflattering articles?"

He couldn't help, but grin. "Well, as it seems, I haven't read any lately," he replied. He soon noticed several people beginning to slow and eye him particularly. "Um, do you mind?" he asked as he gestured down the street with a discreet wave.

Chloe quickly assessed his reason. "Uh, sure," she replied and began down the street. "I was heading this way originally."

He fell in step beside her, but didn't say a word.

Chloe, baffled once again, gave him a sidelong glance. "Is there something I can do for you?" she asked, breaking the awkward silence. "I mean, since you're obviously not here to for legal purposes."

"As a matter of fact, I wanted to apologize—for my behavior—in the coffee shop," he finally said. "It was very rude of me and I'm sorry for making you, in any way, uncomfortable."

Chloe glanced at him again out of the corner of her eye. His head was down, his gaze seeming to be fixed on the sidewalk below them. She couldn't help but smile, her eyebrows raised momentarily in surprise that he should trouble himself with making a formal apology and in person, no less.

"Apology accepted," she replied. "Were you afraid that it might come up in print?"

"Well," he drawled in good nature. "I have to say that I was surprised that it didn't. You know, how fabulously entertaining it would be to see the story of the local billionaire hitting on the Gazette's ace reporter while on a date with another woman, a very well known other woman."

Chloe cocked a brow at him. "You are aware, Mr. Wayne, that Copernicus discovered that the sun is the center of the universe, right?"

Bruce actually and unexpectedly laughed out loud. Something he wasn't aware of until it was over.

"Besides," Chloe smiled. "You weren't hitting on me," she stated matter-of-factly.

Something of that statement struck a chord in him. She had said as much that night in the coffee shop and it was as if she'd seen right through his ridiculous plan. However…

"Do I detect a note of regret?" he teased.

"Hardly," she tossed back at him and stopped abruptly.

Surprised at the abrupt halt, Bruce quickly noted the building behind her. "Bokuden's Dojo?" he read in question.

"Yeah," she smiled as she hauled a duffel bag higher on her shoulder. "A girl can't be too careful, especially here in Gotham. Gotta watch my butt, you know," she quipped.

Bruce leaned to the side in an exaggerated manner and pretended to leer at her rather well-developed backside. "Is it insured?" he jibed in return.

Chloe's smiled widened at his surprising sense of humor. "No, thank goodness. I wouldn't be able to afford the premium," she sighed.

Bruce's brows drew together in confusion. "Expecting some accidents?" he asked and noticed she quickly sobered from her current lighthearted manner.

"Actually, it would seem that I've made my fair share of enemies as well as friends here in Gotham," she replied. "But I guess it goes with the territory," she shrugged and turned towards the door.

"Wait a minute," Bruce called quickly, causing her to turn. He stepped closer to her, his brows drawn in concern. "Have you run into some kind of…trouble?"

Chloe's gaze drifted for a moment and she shook her head. "I'm not worried about it," she claimed with a grin. "It's just a part of the job."

Bruce wasn't at all at ease with that statement. He wanted badly to prod her for more information and suddenly found that it was for a genuine concern rather than his original ulterior motive. Whatever the case, she would be too cynical to take him seriously.

"I-I need to go," Chloe pointed at the door behind her. "Class is going to start soon."

"Uh, yeah," he said absently. "Look," he stopped her again. "I would like to give the Gazette an exclusive," he blurted quickly.

"Really?" Chloe's eyebrows rose in surprise, but quickly cocked her head to the side in suspicion. "What's the catch?"

Bruce feigned great innocence. "Nothing," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "Something I was planning on doing for the city," he quickly fabricated. "And I want you to cover it."

"Me?" Chloe shook her head in bafflement.

"I'll contact you," he said as he began walking away quickly before she could say no.

"Wait a minute!" she shouted. "I don't think—"

But she was cut off as he quickly dove into a black town car.

"---I'm the person for the job," she finished in futility and stood for a moment in utter and complete puzzlement.

oOo


	18. Chapter 18

_Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville, DC comics, etc. It's just for fun, folks._

_Author's Note: I'm sorry, but I couldn't leave "V" hanging in the beginning. He's not going to have a huge part. Just enough for a nice mention. I'm sorry, I love "V". I gave him a name and it's purely inspired by the movieverse. I thought since he goes by "V" and they tried so hard to show similarities between him and Dietrich in the movie...I thought to give them a closer connection. Perhaps brothers..._

oOo

When he first started this job, Alfred had often wondered if he'd eventually grow tired of doing the same old morning routine. The life of a butler was best suited to those who were creatures of habit and he certainly did enjoy a routine. His experience in the armed forces had given him all the thrill seeking he felt that he'd ever need, but some of that lovely routine and was quite ready to settle down into the family business. Needless to say, it was a routine that kept him sane in the most trying of times, and especially those of tragedy.

Though he had to admit that there was something oddly exciting about waking in the morning knowing there was something new besides that of the everyday familiar, yet there were simply some mornings when it was just way too early to smell something so putrid as that suit which somehow managed to be left lying about on occasion. He could only imagine then just what sort of story he would be hearing in conjunction with such a mess.

That's when he made his way into the kitchen to freshen his nostrils with the lovely aroma of Jamaican Blue Mountain brewing. To add fresher scents, Alfred decided to go to the laundry and throw in a load of whites. After that, breakfast was in order.

As he set yet another protein-enhanced concoction, that would effectively gag a maggot, onto the silver serving tray, Alfred grinned to himself. This morning's paper had been no less entertaining since he'd made it an express point to pay particularly attention to the _'Watchtower'_ column as well as little snippets in the _Lifestyle_ section of the paper. There had been an impromptu announcement stating that the _"illustrious Bruce Wayne was mysteriously preparing to reveal plans for the city with which he'd taken a personal interest" _and ended with a laughable_ "stay tuned kids!'_.

'_This morning is certainly going to be interesting'_, Alfred thought as he picked up the tray and headed towards the master suite.

As Alfred began towards the master suite with all speed, voices further down the hall led Alfred away from the master suite and towards the immense study. Alfred slowly nudged open the door to see Bruce actually awake and pacing about like a caged animal, phone firmly attached to the side of his head.

"Yes, yes," Bruce was nodding into the phone. "I can meet you"—he jerked his wristwatch into view—"in about an hour?"

Alfred cocked his head to the side in confusion. Master Bruce actually sounded as though he were doing…well…business.

"Okay, great!" Bruce finally said. "See you then."

As Bruce pulled the phone away, Alfred took this as his cue to speak.

"So I take it this is regarding the article in this morning's paper?" he queried. "Billionaire Bruce Wayne has some form of "_plan" _for the city?"

Bruce scrubbed a hand over his face. "Man, she certainly intends on making me stick to that statement-- with a vengeance," he sighed heavily.

Alfred grinned at the thought. "Not without its own amusements, but what on earth provoked you to make such a tedious promise? It does seem rather far from attempting to learn her true intentions."

"I don't know," he groaned as he ran his hand over his mouth. "She was getting ready for a class, I was trying to keep her attention and the next thing I knew it flew out of my mouth before my brain could say, '_Danger Will Robinson', _he said, half-heartedly mimicking a stiff flapping of the arms.

Alfred permitted himself a grin as he set the tray down by a small side table. "I've seen you do some outrageous things before to get a young lady's attention, but this is way over the top, even for you. Which begs the question, '_What are you going to do?"_

Bruce could only sigh in response as he thought. Hell, he didn't know. This whole debacle was getting so far away from his intended target: her sudden connection to Gotham's mob. He was beginning to think his unrelenting dedication had led him down the wrong rabbit hole.

However, it was what it was. Should he fall back on his stated promise… He could only see the headlines now. She would be merciless. The damage that it would do to his reputation as a philanthropist and his company would be almost irrevocable.

No words needed to let Alfred know that Bruce had not a clue. "You could, perhaps, derive some inspiration in Ms. Dawes honor?"Alfred offered.

Bruce raised his brows in consideration as he resumed pacing. "I thought about that, but you know Rachel," he said, his voice becoming a bit lower, his face beginning to fall. "She wasn't big on calling a great deal of attention to herself that didn't involve her job."

Alfred looked on quietly for a moment. He knew that Rachel was still a sore wound within Master Bruce and he was almost sorry to bring up what still appeared to be a painful memory. "Then perhaps, a cause," Alfred suggested quietly. "A cause that Ms. Dawes felt was near and dear to her own heart."

Bruce stopped for a moment. "You know," he said suddenly, with a casual point at Alfred. "That's a damn good idea."

oOo

Maroni's men could only sit and shoot each other looks of befuddlement in silence as they listened to the strange looking new goon giggle almost insanely, but lightly from behind an open newspaper.

With a loud swish, the strange man closed the paper with an enormous grin on his disfigured face. "What a lovely little piece of work she is," he muttered to himself and looked up at the men through his lids. "But she's slipping," he stated matter-of-factly with a point of the finger and scooted out from his chair. "Her writing… is starting to wan a bit. Becoming too…too bland. I mean, c'mon…" he looked back at the paper. "Plans? For the city?"

He picked up the paper and looked down at the society column_._ "Plans…," he murmured. "I think she needs…a little help."

oOo

Chloe was bouncing her leg impatiently as she stood in a ridiculously long line behind the counter at JavaScript. Since the Bruce Wayne sighting only days ago, there had been a rapid surge in business with a tsunami of customers practically gushing through the doors.

Though she was supposed to be meeting with him, Chloe couldn't ignore the familiar feeling of annoyance at the man. She was still in the middle of her assignment regarding current _"mob_" activities with a little side research as well when she received a message that she was to _"meet"_ him in some odd part of town that she wasn't yet familiar with in exactly one hour. She had to practically drop what she was doing on her desk and make a run for it.

And now he'd practically ruined her favorite spot with hordes of noisy new patrons.

"Yes, it does seem to bear heavily on one's patience," a familiar voice noted from behind her.

She must have sighed again, she thought and turned suddenly to be met with a familiar set of laughing blue eyes. Remembering the last time she had met him, Chloe smiled in surprise. "Yes, I was just thinking of substituting _'going postal'_ with a new analogy," she remarked. "But I think I prefer meeting you under these circumstances to the other night. Thank you again, by the way."

"Not at all," he replied with a pleasant smile. "Though it seems that the only crime committed here is depriving patrons of their daily fix," he stated as he perused the crowd.

Chloe followed his gaze. There were more than enough disgruntled expressions with a good deal of complaining into several cell phones. Looking back at the stranger, she nodded in agreement, taking note of a small piece of paper he held in his hand. "I take it rehearsals are itching for their fuel?"

"Yes," he sighed greatly. "I fear that I picked the short straw."

Chloe snickered. "I'm sorry. But believe me, I know what it's like to pick the short straw. For years, I think _I've been_ the short straw." Quickly she thrust out her hand, "C.G. from the Gotham Gazette," she introduced herself with a smile.

He gently clasped her hand. "Vincent Dietrich, actor extraordinaire with the Shakespeare Company," he replied with that sort of familiar flair from the other night. Eyeing her bouncing leg, he looked at her curiously. "You seem a bit nervous," he noted. "Caffeine in the air?"

Chloe ducked her head sheepishly, not realizing her fidgeting. "Just in a hurry."

"A date, perhaps?" he inquired with a curious smile.

Chloe eyebrows flatlined. "Hardly," she replied deadpan. "As a matter of fact, he's spoiled," she began, throwing out a finger. "He can be pompous." Two fingers. "Lascivious, lecherous—" Three. Four. "He's completely inconsiderate of schedules. He just expects me to drop everything I'm doing to bow down to his regal—"

He threw up a halting hand with a gentle smile. "I get the idea," he chuckled, shooting her an all-too-knowing look.

Chloe suddenly blushed at her exuberance of running down this man she was meeting in a matter of minutes. Without realizing it, the line had moved significantly and Chloe turned quickly to put in her order.

"I'm sorry about that," she apologized quickly, not sure how to explain her quick tirade.

"Quite all right," he replied in good nature. "On behalf of this poor gentleman, try to take it easy on him," he said, holding his hand to his chest in a mock plea. "For it is rumored that we be so closely related to swine."

Chloe couldn't help smiling at his prose and good nature.

A very sharp _m'am_ caught Chloe's attention and she absently grabbed her preferred coffee convection, tossing a few dollars with an additional tip simply to just hurry up and keep the line moving. She smiled apologetically at Vincent. "Sorry, to drink and run, but—

"Duty calls, I presume," he filled in quickly.

"It's my job," she called back and was quickly out the door.

oOo

Oliver never felt so stupid in his life.

If anyone ever heard about this…

If anyone ever remotely caught wind of this…

He looked at himself in the mirror and his lips curled into a growl. _If Clark ever blabbed one word_…

"Hello?"

Oliver froze on the spot.

"Hello?" came the sharp, yet muffled inquiry from the other side the apartment door that could only belong to one person.

Holy crap! It was Lois!

Totally baffled, his brows scrunching. '_What was she doing here?'_

"Look, I know you're in there. I can see the light on," she claimed loudly.

Oliver looked skyward. '_I'm gonna kill Clark,'_ was all Oliver could think.

"Please, may I come in and talk to you?"

What to do? What to do?

"Uh, no!" he responded in a dreadful high-pitched tone. "I'm sorry, young lady. I have…uh…pneumonia!" And followed up with a fit of coughing. "Yes, very contagious," he squeaked and coughed a little more for emphasis. "I'd certainly hate for a young thing like yourself to catch it."

There was silence for a moment and Oliver felt his heart leap in trepidation. What if she wasn't buying? Or....what if she left?

He should be so lucky.

"Look, please," Lois pleaded. "I need to know if you know anything about the woman that lived here. Chloe Sullivan. She used to live in this apartment."

Poor Lois. She sounded so desperate that Oliver nearly opened to the door, but Clark would never forgive him…Chloe either for that matter.

"Um, sorry," Oliver continued in his best old lady voice, which was starting to make his throat scratchy. "Place was empty when I moved in."

"Please," Lois continued to plead. "Her mother is missing."

Oliver felt his gut hit the floor. How'd she know?

"If you remember anything, call me at this number," she said and Oliver found a small card coming from underneath the door.

"Okay," Oliver responded.

And with that, Oliver heard a heaving sigh and the retreating sound of her heels clacking down the hallway.

Immediately, Oliver rushed across the apartment and grabbed his cell. Punching in the numbers, he waited, impatiently tapping his foot until the ringing stopped.

"Clark? Look man, we've got a problem."

oOo


	19. Chapter 19

_Author's Note: This is so not where I saw this going, but I let it fly like it is and make up for it later. If it seems kind of thrown together...it was. Also, I don't know much about Rachel's background, only that she left the manor after the murder of Bruce's parents. So I gave her a small one. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, DC comics, etc._

oOo

Bruce was fast becoming impatient and so much so that he began to pace the empty boardroom like a caged animal.

It was just like Lex to try to be fashionably late and attempt to make a grandiose entrance. The man certainly missed his calling. He could've easily been one of the greatest stage actors of all time.

His morning meeting had gone smoothly. Only out of courtesy did he decide to keep his appointment with Lex. However, he was strongly beginning to debate whether or not to call his secretary and have her give Lex his best wishes. Earlier, he had sent a message to the Gotham Gazette asking "C.G." to meet with him on the other side of town.

"C.G." he mused with a shake of his head. If she was so innocent, as Alfred tried to pretend, then why didn't she use her real name. FBI files didn't show that she was in Witness Protection.

"Mr. Wayne?" came an inquiry over the speaker. "Mr. Luthor here to see you."

Finally. "Great, send him in," he replied.

Bruce turned just in time to see Lex saunter through the boardroom's double doors. "Bruce!" Lex exclaimed. "Good to finally see you," he said as he threw his arms out to embrace him as if they'd been old fraternity brothers.

Each threw an arm around the other while firmly clasping hands.

"I didn't think I'd catch you," Lex said as they separated. "I thought I'd hear about some extravagant stunt involving runway models, wine and your yacht."

"You _do _remember New Years!" Bruce grinned in response, perhaps a little too tightly. "Well, you know, business calls now and then."

"Well, my capacity for booze hasn't abated yet," he replied, sobered quickly. "But speaking of business," he began. "I'm sure Lucius apprised you of our discussion."

"Briefly," Bruce replied, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. "I generally trust Lucius to steer the company into the most profitable venture."

Lex grinned and shook his head. "You know, I'll never understand you, Bruce," he stated. "How you can let someone else run your company is beyond me."

Bruce raised his brows in good nature. "Eh, well, my father trusted Lucius years ago" He shrugged nonchalantly. "So I figured, why mess with a good thing?"

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?" Lex quoted.

"Right," Bruce smiled. "So how long are you in town?" he inquired out of politeness.

"Ah, only for the next couple of hours," Lex replied apologetically. "Want to grab a late lunch?"

"I wish I could, my friend," Bruce replied. "I have an appointment that I can't break. Take a rain check?"

Lex offered Bruce his hand. "Sure thing," he replied, with a firm shake.

oOo

Where the hell had he sent her?

Chloe delicately crunched through broken glass and rotten wood with a bit of confusion and more than little trepidation. Scanning over the broken window frames, open doorways, and rusting lockers, Chloe was beginning to feel as if a great nasty prank had been played on her.

For the time she'd spent in Gotham, Chloe had learned to never leave her apartment without some form of protection. Sure, she had her classes to fall back on, but then again, she was still learning and thus far, it wouldn't be the first time that someone had gotten the jump on her.

Looking down the long, darkened hallway before her, Chloe kept her hand within her purse with a firm grip on a taser that she'd purchased as of the last time she went snooping around dark corners.

"Seems rather a lost cause, doesn't it?"

Chloe whirled at the voice that echoed past her, taser out and aimed.

"Whoa, whoa! Watch where you're pointing that thing," the voice warned with a chuckle.

Chloe squinted through the dim light to see a very long shadow came into the broken light that reflected through the windows, gloved palms up in surrender.

Chloe allowed herself a hefty sigh of relief. "You know, maybe next time you should call with more details instead of leaving a vague message," she said as she shoved the taser back into its rightful place. "You could avoid several volts that way."

With a relaxed grin he sauntered through the rubble towards her. "I thought it best to be as discreet as possible," he smiled down at her.

Chloe's brows raised in question as she looked up at him, but quickly shrank back, not realizing how close he was. "Discreet is one thing. Complete omission is something else altogether," she said as she looked about. "Former alma mater?" she teased; a ridiculously vain attempt to cover her sudden attack of the nerves. She wanted to curse herself.

"Hardly," he replied with a grin, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "No, this is just one of the examples of Gotham. Yet another victim to the unrelenting crime of years past to the present," he said as he allowed his eyes to wonder until his gaze settled back onto her. "You see, this school didn't always look like this."

Chloe glanced up at him, wondering in her mind where precisely this was going. I mean, sure, it looked all well and good for the local billionaire to take an interest in education. After all, Bill Gates was doing quite nicely at gaining quite a bit of acknowledgement not just for his cause, but for himself in his campaign for education. But it suited him. He was the quintessential braniac. Of course, he would take interest in putting his money where he'd learned to acquire most of his financial success.

Just where did Bruce Wayne feel his money counted most? A new addition to the Playboy mansion?

"As a matter of fact, this entire area of town wasn't like this nearly twenty years ago," he added, waving a finger around.

"Really?" she said, genuinely surprised. Such a level of degradation of that magnitude seemed as if it had always been such. She'd seen those areas of town in Metropolis that had always been the fact of a slum long before she'd came into existence.

He nodded. "Years ago, as areas of Gotham began to be rebuilt after the depression; areas that the city was more interested in preserving, Gotham's worst began bleeding into areas that had been a haven for others—

"Like this school," she nodded with understanding.

"Absolutely," he replied. "It was as if when one part of the city had been raised up—

"Another would fall," she followed, nodding in understanding.

"And this was a severe casualty," he began, nodding with indication. "A good friend of mine had lived here once, had loved it here. She was always telling me how sad that this had degraded such as it had and when the city itself began to decline once again, it simply became worse here."

Chloe watched him, could see by his downcast expression that it meant a great deal for him that his friend had been so affected. "She wished that she could've done something?" Chloe surmised quickly.

He nodded again. "Yes and she thought perhaps that she could by going into law," he explained.

"Attack the problem at its source?"

Bruce simply shrugged. "I suppose that was one way that she looked at it. Gotham has always been judged by its criminal activities instead of what may have caused them to start with. Most of the world would simply prefer to believe that Gotham simply breeds degenerates," he said, the last with a taste of bitterness.

Chloe hummed her empathy. "Making thieves and then punishing them," she quoted.

"_Utopia_?" Bruce questioned with interest.

"_Ever After_," Chloe replied with a lopsided grin and a sideways glance. "But I have read the book," she quickly informed, obviously not wanting to simply look intelligent, but prove it.

"So, here it is," Bruce announced with a single nod. "My gift to the city."

Chloe turned furrowed brows at him. "A broken down school?"

Bruce wrinkled his nose in good nature. "Of course not," he said. "Once upon a time, this district produced young hopefuls and great minds. The city needs that again, now more than ever. I've already set into motion plans to rebuild, not just the school, but a block-by-block project. Making the area as it once was so long ago.

"And the school will be the center of it all," he finished.

Chloe was bowled over by a great deal of surprise and a little bit of skepticism. "That's quite a large undertaking."

Bruce only shrugged in response. "So, like most things, it'll be a work in progress."

Chloe eyed his profile with an appraising gaze. "Yes, I guess you could say that," she murmured thoughtfully.

Taking out a flashlight, Chloe decided to do a little more investigating. Whether to look genuinely interested or maybe because it seemed a lot like Smallville High, she wasn't certain. Though she had been taken by surprise when Bruce followed along behind her.

Going further into the school with less natural light, Chloe would've thought that the musty smells and a lot more debris littering the hallways would've prompted Mr. Bruce Wayne to stay behind to maintain his cleaned and pressed appearance.

As a matter of fact, he turned out to be a rather useful tour guide. He pointed out that the school hosted, on occasion, The Odyssey of the Mind.

"There was also a patron of the city who managed to have state of the art labs constructed in this school," he informed as they passed by the broken down rooms. Chloe briefly peaked inside the doors to heaps of rusty rubble and vandalism. Immediately she could envision was it must have looked like in its heyday.

Continuing on, Bruce relayed an anecdote of his friend's graduation, which he'd attended. How the graduating class began to throw paper airplanes and bat beach balls around while the Valedictorian gave an incredibly long and boring speech.

"You're kidding?" Chloe couldn't help chuckling, picturing the incident in her mind. Sounded a lot like her own graduating class…had that day even transpired normally.

"Well, they were graduating," Bruce reiterated. "Rachel swears she didn't start it," he continued with an unknowing smile. "But I'm pretty sure it was her idea, at any rate."

"Is that your friend?" Chloe asked.

"Who?" he returned in confusion.

Chloe felt her own bemusement. "Rachel," she stated.

Bruce was thoughtful for a moment. He must've mentioned Rachel's name without realizing it. "Uh, yeah," was his solemn reply and he trudged forward, leaving Chloe to wonder as she began after him.

She was no fool. She'd noticed his laughing manner change instantly and was sorry for it. Obviously, Rachel was a difficult memory and though curiosity was getting the best of her; consideration for his feelings and politeness for not sticking her nose into his personal affairs won out.

Continuing on through, Bruce pointed out what had been the school's educational strengths and weaknesses. In spite herself, Chloe found that she was becoming quite impressed with his interest, given his privileged background.

Chloe then took out her phone and began snapping a few amateur photos.

"Glad to see you've taken quite a interest, Miss…uh…C.G.," he covered quickly, nearly calling her by her name. "The initials stand for something?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Chloe wasn't deterred and continued to snap shots as she stepped over heaping piles of lord only knows what. "My first and middle name," she replied deadpan as she concentrated.

Bruce rolled his eyes at her literal, yet evasive reply. "I think I read a fairytale like this once. The one where you have to guess an imp's name to break a spell."

Chloe slowly turned to look at him, bemused by such a reference. "Uh, sure," she replied cynically. "It's purely professional," she claimed as she looked around for more shots.

He stepped closer to her. "And personally?"

Chloe felt suddenly dumbstruck at the timbre of his voice and turned to find herself captured by his gaze. Gone for a moment, was that damn smirk she was sure that he used on thousands of women and all that remained was dark, inquisitive eyes and a genuine smile.

Before she could even begin to form a reply, Bruce's head jerked up suddenly. Perplexed, Chloe looked around to find what was causing his sudden apprehension.

"I think it's best if we got out of here…now," he said the last the great emphasis.

Chloe noted as she walked in front of him that it had grown quite dark outside and with the darkness, brought a heightened state of awareness. They were, after all, in a what had become a rough neighborhood…in Gotham.

Chloe was trying to make the conscious decision not to shine her flashlight all over so as not to appear quite chicken-like in front of him. She could feel him practically at her back and kept trying to convince herself that her trepidation was merely the darkness of the old school and not his nearness.

Through her mental parry and thrusts, Chloe misjudged a step and inadvertently stepped onto a upraised plank of wood, knocking her off balance and releasing a scurrying creature.

Chloe cried out in surprise as she began to fall towards the heap of broken wood and glass. Twisting away and braced for the impact, but it never came.

Bewildered at first, Chloe felt suspended in the air. With a sudden jerk, Chloe quickly found herself swung into his embrace.

With her palms braced on his chest, Chloe hesitantly raised her face to look up at him.

He grinned down at her at first. "Nearly took quite a fall," he murmured, his face drawn in concern. "Are you all right?"

Chloe quickly put her head down. "Yeah, nice catch by the way," she whispered and gently pried herself away from his hold. "Thanks," was all she could say and quickly turned away, nearly tripping over the same board, but wobbled away from the heap in time.

Watching her retreating form, which was moving as quickly to the nearest streetlight as possible, Bruce couldn't help smiling in spite of himself as he followed along behind her.

oOo


	20. Chapter 20

**_Author's Note_: **_Sorry for the long update. My muse took a vacation and I didn't get to go. _

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Smallville, DC Comics, etc._

oOo

**Rachel Dawes: Gotham's Light**

'_A humble girl from District 12, Rachel Dawes was the everyman's hope teaming up with Gotham's White Knight…'_

Chloe frowned as she read intently the Gazette's glowing obituary for the former young A.D.A. cut down in the prime of her life and career by a psychopathic madman.

The name played over and over in her head.

Rachel

"_Rachel swears she didn't start it."_

And without warning, his smiling visage came into her mind; a rare glimpse into something she didn't think he did a great deal.

"_Is that your friend?" Chloe asked._

"_Who?" he returned in confusion._

"_Rachel," she stated._

"_Uh, yeah," was his solemn reply_

She should've known.

The article actually made mention of how Miss Dawes came to District 12. It was only after the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne that Rachel's mother, having been under their employment, was unable to stay on for reasons not stated and subsequently uprooted her daughter to District 12.

While the article had been informative and flattering, yet it was not nearly as revering as the coverage of Gotham's District Attorney, Harvey Dent who had been killed a day later. There were allegations that outright held the Batman responsible.

So far, her research had shown reviews and opinions that painted the Batman as simply a vigilant to the point that even some of the citizens of Gotham were screaming for his head. From simply passing folks on the street to past articles, she'd learned that there were still mixed feelings among Gotham's populace, but even that couldn't make her ignore the fact that the mob's retaliation of territory encroachment resulted in at least four of the city's top justice hierarchy dead in a matter of days all in the name of unmasking the Batman.

"Have you ever thought about changing the name of your column from '_**Watchtowe**__r_' to "_**Section 8'**_?"

From her desk, Chloe merely gave Ginny a sideways glance with a crooked grin. "I take it that Walter found you."

Since her impromptu tour, Chloe wasted no time in learning as much as possible about what was simply referred to as **District 12**.

"As I recall, you decided to go it alone down into the _Narrows _for a reason," Ginny reminded.

"Well, I thought a few well placed photos would make readers a little more interested in this so-called project," Mr. Grant commented, startling both women.

Ginny squeezed her eyes tight in a cringe and slowly turned to face the all-too suave editor. "Look, Mr. Grant I'm not saying there isn't a story, but what you're asking--

"I want to see some initiative here, Ginny," he declared as he sipped his coffee. "I want to be thorough with no margin for error."

"But—

"Don't worry, Hildy'll help you out," he said with a dazzling smile and patted her shoulder in encouragement as he began towards his office. "Hildy, I'm expecting that feature!" he shouted before closing the door.

Chloe heaved a great sigh and rolled her eyes.

"_Hildy_," Ginny mocked with a sarcastic mumble. "Well, Ms. Russell, why don't you worry about your feature and we can postpone our field trip another time," Ginny suggested, trying not to sound hopeful.

Chloe turned to begin gathering her stuff. "You're not going to chicken out on me now, are you? "she joked. "Look, I've only been able to find a few scant articles on District 12, mainly the '_before'_ in its heyday, but it seems as though no one was really willing to go down there and show just how badly its degraded over the years."

Ginny's eyes popped open wide with astonishment. "You want to know about District 12?"

Chloe waved her hand wildly. "Will you be quiet," she shushed, her eyes darting around. It wasn't a secret that those "_eyes_" and "_ears_" she'd been warned about were not only all over the city, but definitely in the newsroom. It wouldn't surprise her if Van Zant were the ringleader.

Ginny calmed and leveled her eyes on Chloe. "Gangs have been crawling all over District 12 for years," she informed, low and precise. "When murders are committed, district 12 is where they find the body. When someone wants to buy the latest drug on the market, district 12 is where they go to get it. If a car has been stolen, you can bet district 12 is where they'll find its charred remains. When—

Chloe put up a halting hand. "Whoa, hold the phone. I thought the _Narrows _was Gotham's _No Man's Land_?"

Ginny shook her head nonsensically. "_The Narrows_ is where the mob does its _'overseas transactions'_. Gangs in the _Narrows _are just mob muscle. The bulk of the brotherhood runs rampant in these old fallen neighborhoods. I mean, quite frankly, I'm amazed that you went without a full entourage."

Chloe flinched in quick realization and turned back to organizing her bag. "I'm amazed that I didn't look before I leapt," Chloe mumbled, suddenly feeling a little unsettled. "Of course, I guess it wouldn't be the first time," she added, grabbing her coat and scarf.

"Look, I realize you managed the Narrows without a scratch and a quick trip into District 12, but don't you think you're tempting the fates just a little?"

"Wherever the fates lead, let us follow," Chloe quoted, patting her colleague's shoulder in good nature as she passed by her.

Ginny could only stand there, staring blankly into space. "Fabulous."

oOo

Bruce was, needless to say, frustrated. Nothing seemed to make any sense. He pulled up files, slinging them to the left and right onto different screens, numerous pictures popping up all over the screen, each photograph showing the same sloppy artwork in spray paint: _Falcone_.

"Each one has been found somewhere in Falcone's old territories," he informed the gentleman standing behind him. "Activity is growing in these areas with Maroni's men retaliating. Incidents are popping up faster than I can quell them."

"Seems as if Falcone has become more powerful dead than he ever was alive," Lucius surmised, crossing his arms.

Bruce turned to hand Lucius a manila file. "So far, District 12 is the last one that hasn't seen any more activity than usual."

Lucius continued to thumb through the file in his hands. "Speaking of District 12 how is our little intrepid reporter?"

Bruce exhaled a huff. "She seems to have taken off at full speed," he said with a single shake of his head and subdued surprise. He hadn't expected her to take to his charitable contribution with such fervor and had been pleased when he read her Watchtower article concerning the new development.

**Gotham's Great Hope**

Since the debut of the teaser article only yesterday, Wayne Enterprises had been receiving phone calls from unlikely sources wanting to pitch their own contributions.

However, he noted that she kept updating the situation concerning mob activity with promises of a major story break in the near future. He frowned at her steadfast course in reporting the impending mob war that seemed to be on the horizon. "But it doesn't seem to have slowed her mob research."

Lucius didn't miss the implication and was disconcerted by it. "You know, curious zeal isn't something foreign found in most reporters," he stated plainly. "While trouble isn't hard to be found in Gotham, maybe_ it _just keeps finding her."

"Or she goes looking for it," Bruce countered. "Unfortunately, I guess that I had a one in a hundred chance of keeping track of her," he joked mildly, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned.

"Well, I wouldn't put it past the most practical woman to have less than fifty pairs of shoes," Lucius replied in good humor, but paused in going back to the file. He eyed Bruce carefully. "I think it's a safe bet that she doesn't hold any mob ties," Lucius suggested subtly

"She's not off my radar just yet, Lucius," Bruce replied, pulling up a map of the city with a GPS overlay. "I managed to slip another tracking device into her bag."

"Yes, I can see that," he mumbled thoughtfully, noting a blinking green light maneuvering around what looked like the several blocks that made up District 12. "However, I'm not convinced," Lucius hummed pulling his glasses off in thought. "Maybe it's time that I gave you a hand."

"Good," Bruce chuckled. "Maybe you can take a crack at her file," he added as he raised to hand Lucius a flash drive.

"Confidential?" Lucius looked mildly surprised.

Bruce shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I've done everything but take a hammer and chisel to it."

Lucius seemed confused at first, but then relaxed into a knowing grin. "Well, why didn't you say so?"

Bruce knew that look and returned Lucius' grin with a comforted.

"_Gotham 911. What is your emergency?"_

Both men immediately jerked in the direction of the scanner and then back to the GPS map.

"_I need someone down at District 12, the old school building!"_

"_Okay, m'am. Calm down—_

"_Calm down? We're surrounded by five-stars!"_

"_Ginny! Watch out!_"

There was a sudden thud and then silence.

"_M'am? M'am? I lost her."_

Bruce jerked a determined gaze towards Lucius.

"I'm on it," was all he said.

oOo

_Earlier…_

Thank goodness for daylight, no matter how bleak it seemed to be at this point, Chloe was thinking as she moved with determination to retrace her steps from the other night. Starting to feel a little trepidation crawl up her spine, it finally took a moment for Chloe to realize that she wasn't hearing simultaneous footsteps beside her.

She turned to find Ginny all but clinging to an old telephone pole several feet away.

Chloe tilted her head to the side in a good-natured, albeit exasperated fashion. "C'mon Ginny," she called out.

"I changed my mind!" she called back, inching closer to the telephone pole. "I'm used to fundraisers and photo-ops!"

Chloe began to slowly walk towards her. "So, you're a little out of your comfort zone—

Ginny was immediately incredulous. "A little?"

"A little," Chloe confirmed.

"I can't believe you're not worried about becoming a prime target," Ginny said.

Chloe chuckled a little. "I can't believe you're not worried about this red-hooded sweatshirt," she countered, plucking at the faded hoodie. "You'd have better luck running the streets of Pamplona."

"You're thinking of the Crips when it's the Five-Star Brotherhood you should be worrying about," Ginny informed. "This" –she pulled at her shirt—"is the least of my worries."

"Let me guess, five-pointed star tattoos?"

"More like five small stars in a circle," Ginny replied, but then she shook her head. "That's not the point though."

"C'mon Ginny, even Walt said that you've got to be one of the best photographers this side of journalism. You know, as well as I do, that even the _Daily Planet_ boasts some of the best photojournalists in the field," she said hoping to appeal to her vanity with a little nudge.

Not even a flinch. Ginny simply stared blankly into space with only her brows lifted a fraction in uncertainty.

Chloe sagged into her hip. "Do I have to sing '_Nobody Does it Better'_? Because my Carly Simon impression sounds more like Ethel Merman."

Just when Chloe began to think that Ginny was going to sprint for a cab, Ginny turned ambitious eyes towards her. "You know, I've always wanted to show up that little twerp, Olsen," she declared with a determined shove to the bridge of her glasses.

At that, Chloe smiled. "Well, then, you're in luck," she proclaimed with a sense of mystery.

Once Chloe was able to somewhat pry Ginny away from the pole, the women focused on their work as they headed from the parking lot and into the darkened chasm of the old school.

While Chloe recorded commentary as they went through the school, she would occasionally point out specifics for _before_ and _after _photos to give Ginny a few random ideas that she'd learned from Jimmy.

"The entire area looks like the aftermath of a post-atomic horror," Ginny remarked as she snapped occasionally. "Do you think we should walk the neighborhoods for a full effect?" Ginny asked.

Chloe turned a disbelieving look towards her photographing friend. "Getting brave, aren't we?"

Ginny paused for a moment to shoot Chloe a mock look of smugness. "Well, after all, anything you can do, I can do better….

Chloe playfully stuck her tongue out at Ginny and both women continued to carefully make their way through the school, taking special care not to stray from each other and talking back and forth as they worked.

Ginny seemed to gaze hard through her camera. "It's hard to believe isn't it?" Ginny commented more than asked referring to the dreadful conditions of the school.

"Sounds like District 12 used to be one of the best places in the city for low middle income families, at least according to my research," Chloe remarked, carefully stepping through the debris.

"They used to call it, '_the small town in a big city_'," Ginny added. "You know, kids walking home from school, bake sales on the weekends, community events…"

"A regular Mayberry right here in Gotham," Chloe quipped. "I know the type well."

Both of them continued through the halls towards the back of the school where double doors led outside to what used to be a pavilion surrounding what must have been basketballs courts. "What do you say after getting shots of the grounds, we trace steps down to one of the neighborhoods?" Chloe suggested. "Kind of let everyone get the feel of the way it used to be."

Ginny paused with a girding sigh. "I'm ready when you are," she stated as though she were going to an execution.

Chloe just looked at her with a crooked smile. "You want a cigarette and blindfold?"

"For this, I need a menthol and a fifth of Jack," she breathed, making Chloe giggle.

And with that Ginny, all too valiantly, rounded the corner outside the double doors first. "Oh no," she groaned.

Chloe followed up from behind just in time to see her furiously snapping photographs of the adjacent wall.

"Wow," Chloe breathed. "That doesn't exactly say, '_Welcome Back, Kotter'_, does it?"

In bright red paint, yet sloppy workmanship was one word: _Falcone_.

Ginny slowly lowered her camera. "I guess you were right," she remarked, watching Chloe walk up to the wall. "Falcone's men aren't ready to give up loyalties so quickly."

"I wonder if loyalty has anything to do with it," she mumbled, absently reaching her fingers up to the wall where the name had been spray-painted. The feel was suddenly strange and not at all what she would've expected. Her face scrunched in confusion as she pulled her fingers away to examine them.

Chloe stared in startled realization at the red paint on her fingertips. "Oh crap," Chloe gasped. The paint was still fresh.

They weren't alone.

Chloe whirled suddenly and dropped her recorder into her bag. "We need to get out of here! Now!"

Ginny was immediately struck stupid by the panic in Chloe's voice until she saw two shadowy figures drop from the top of the pavilion.

Lightening didn't need to strike her twice. Ginny quickly turned and began to run, pulling out her cell phone and dialing 911.

"_Gotham 911. What is your emergency?_"

"I need cops down at District 12, the old school building!" she shouted in a panic, hazarding a glance behind her shoulder.

"Okay, m'am. Calm down—

"Calm down?" We're surrounded by five-stars!"

Chloe had her own cell phone out and was trying desperately to hit the "_send_" button for Clark, but she was running so fast that her focus was becoming blurred. Just as her thumb landed on the green button, she looked up to see two figures quickly gaining on Ginny.

"Ginny! Look out!"

Chloe's warning came too late when she felt her feet come out from under her and watched the concrete come up to greet her.

Landing with a thud, Chloe watched her cell phone skid away from her. Flipping over, Chloe saw the shadows looming towards her. Plunging her hand into her bag, Chloe managed to jump up as she pulled her tazer from her bag. Off in the distance, she saw Ginny's red-hooded form lying face down and unmoving on the concrete pavement.

Chloe wasted no time. She quickly aimed the tazer and once the laser pointer found its targest, Chloe managed to bring down one of the goons, but only before another kicked the tazer out of her grasp.

Driven purely by survival, Chloe lunged towards the man, first kicking him in the stomach which caused him to bend and cradle the pain. She clasped her hands together in a fist and brought them hard down in between his shoulder blades, effectively knocking him to the ground.

Feeling momentarily triumphant, Chloe gasped in sharp breaths from her exertion as she stared down at the two men. Quickly scanning the area, her eyes only fell across Ginny's prostrate form.

"Ginny," she gasped and began towards her.

Before she could take another step, there was a sharp pain in the back of her head and then everything went black.

oOo

_A/N: Feel free to leave some constructive criticism._


	21. Chapter 21

_**Author's Note:** Okay folks. This is the first time I've ever written a scene like this, so don't be surprised if it doesn't flow well or there isn't enough introspection. I mean, it's long enough all by itself. As far as the technical jargon...I don't really know. I'm just making it up as I go. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it! _

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Smallville, DC comics, etc. _

oOo

Oliver was trying to resist the urge to pace madly within Chloe's tiny Metropolis apartment. So instead, he thought perhaps some surveillance would help to take him mind off of the fact that Chloe's mother was missing, Clark seemed to missing in action, and a determined Lois was out _there_ while he was stuck in _here_.

So far it seemed that Luthor's men were true to form, which certainly served in his favor. None of them were in a hurry to keep up with anything. An occasional glance towards Chloe's building every now and then, and he was sure that their reports consisted of merely a mundane "_she hasn't moved_". For good measure, he decided it couldn't hurt to set a humane trap. Oliver had begun to make it look as though Chloe were receiving deliveries from the local pharmacy. Perhaps if Luthor caught wind that Chloe was vulnerable to even the most benign illness, he'd be more apt to make a move and uncover himself in an unwise attempt.

A quick buzz brought him out of his thoughts and he nearly sighed in relief when the caller I.D. showed Clark's number.

"Clark," he said quickly into the phone. "Find out anything?"

Clark sighed as he put a finger in his ear to drown out the noise. "Nothing," he half shouted into the phone, sounding more than a little disconcerted.

Hearing the obscured racket in the background, Oliver furrowed his brows in confusion. "Where are you?"

"Rio de Janeiro," Clark replied. "I've hit Lex's entire favorite '_vacation spots'_, and '_most likely'_ areas where he can stay out from the watchful eye of the U.S. government."

"Probably where he hides a lot of his R & D," Oliver added grimly as he nodded.

"Exactly," Clark agreed. "But so far, I've found nothing. Not even the tiniest bit of a clue. I've asked questions, passed around photos, and uh …illegally entered a few establishments…"

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut as if to brace himself. "Lois knows," he blurted.

Clark was momentarily befuddled. "Knows? Knows what?" Clark questioned, his voice deepening.

"She found out about Moira, Clark," Oliver informed quickly.

"What! How?"

"I don't know, Clark," Oliver replied. "She came by the apartment—

Clark's head reeled at that declaration. "She came by the apartment?" he half-shouted.

"Relax, she didn't come in and she didn't see me," Oliver added quickly. "But she knows that Moira is missing and you know Lois," he declared with more than a hint of warning.

Clark sighed heavily through his nostrils. "Yeah. I know Lois." '_Great, as if this needed to get any worse'_, he thought to himself.

"She's _not_ just gonna sit on this. I need you to run interference, Clark." Oliver said. "I think this is just about to blow up in our faces with some serious casualties."

"With Chloe and Moira at ground zero," Clark added grimly. Clark could only stand there for a moment as he tried not to allow the despair of their situation fall into discouragement. "But let's hope it doesn't come to that," he finally said.

Hanging up with Oliver, Clark looked around unseeing. He was beginning to wonder just how much time they really had.

oOo

"Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty," she heard a voice taunt deep within the mental haze.

Enshrouded by darkness, a musky odor was slowly forcing Chloe awake, which by the pain she was feeling in the back of her head said she'd much rather be in a blissful oblivion.

"Ow," she groaned, rubbing the small knot on the back of her head.

"C'mon," she heard once more. "Up and at 'em," the voice seemed to clap in her ears.

Baffled, Chloe raised her head only to realize that a large piece of paper was oddly stuck to her forehead. Immediately ripping it away, she quickly noted the large scrawl:

_**"Get Up**_

_**and Go Boom!"**_

Chloe looked about the room that seemed to be obscurely lit only by the streetlight from outside the dusty window.

The moldy cinderblock, the rusted window panes, and rotted wood told Chloe that she was somewhere within the school. Through all the fog, she finally realized that she was sitting in an old dilapidated, wobbly desk.

No binds. No restraints of any kind.

Lifting up the paper, she stared at the scrawl and suddenly became very aware of her circumstances that she surmised to be just under her backside and stiffened. For a moment, holding her breath seemed like a good idea. "Holy crap," she whispered. "My ass is really on the line now."

"Are we paying attention?" was the high-pitched question that grated in her ears.

Stupidly realizing the voice wasn't coming from the ancient television; Chloe began to pay special attention to her surroundings. There was a broken speaker box lying in the corner that might've been used as an intercom back in the school's heyday, but surely…

"I'm listening," she said gravely.

"Oh good," was the cheerfully sarcastic reply.

The sudden and very unwelcome vision of his mangled, painted face came to her mind and Chloe knew exactly who'd orchestrated this.

"Go ahead and ask," he said, tiredly.

_No flies on him. _

"Why would you do something like this?"

"And I'm so glad you asked!" he practically squealed with glee in a most ironic manner. "Well, you--you fascinate me, Ms…uh…Watch-tower?" he sounding suddenly very passionate with a frightening twist. "Your little articles have made the paper such a joy to read, but lately….oh lately"---he drawled disapprovingly— "you've become a little disappointing." Chloe nearly expected to see him waggling a disapproving finger at her.

"I'm sorry that I'm not living up to your high standards," Chloe snarked.

"I'm not really a guy with standards, just… imagination." he cracked.

In that instant, Chloe heard clicking and wheezing all around her. Making the conscious decision to turn only her head, she could see tiny LED's blinking to life.

"You see, I've never cared much for politics—no—but you…you're starting to get under their skin," he informed blithely. "And now, they want you out of the way."

That cryptic message both frightened and intrigued her at the same time. But now wasn't the time to discover who wanted her out of the way, but how to get out of her current conundrum. "What have you done with Ginny?" she asked, trying not to allow panic to lace her voice as she realized that he probably didn't let the photographer go out of the goodness of his heart.

"My, you are a curious little thing, aren't you?"

"Well, it is part of the job description," she quipped, hoping to delay him with small talk. She began to jerk her head in futility around the room as if the possibility of escape might present itself. "So I take it that you've made it onto Maroni or Falcone's payroll?" she mumbled.

"Do you like cartoons?"

Chloe's head flinched with a little double take. "That's random," she mumbled. "Sorry, I haven't kept up since I was a ten."

"It doesn't matter," he said quickly, sounding as if he were shaking his head. "Do you remember the one with the big, dumb gray bulldog that strutted through the city streets? You see, he had a little companion; a tiny mutt that danced and yapped around," he continued in a very conversational fashion.

"Uh, a vague recollection," she replied with mild uncertainty.

"Then you'll remember that we were supposed to think that the big dumb dog was the muscle protecting his yappy companion, but it was always the little yappy one that had the brains and the brawn," he informed. "He always let the dumb dog think that it was all his idea."

"And your point to this little Looney Tune parable?"

"I just want a chance to shine in your wonderful little paper. Credit where credit is due. However--," he paused dramatically. "-- only if Little Red Riding Hood can find you in time before the big bad wolf arrives," he explained, making his first reference to Ginny.

"So why bother with a couple of mundane reporters?" she queried without thinking. "I thought your particular M.O. was volatile explosives plus a few hundred people?"

"Ever heard the expression that more isn't always better? There's no need to sell yourself short….Watch-tower" his voice rolling over the moniker. "All I want is to give your wonderful newspaper a _chance_ to write the truth."

Chloe couldn't contain a scoff. "What would you know about the truth?"

"Well, you see, _I know_ that you're trying to shine a ray of light into the dark, abysmal chasm that is Gotham City; that you're trying to convince Gotham that it can be the newest shining city on a hill."

Chloe simply sat as he continued.

"You see, I also know that right now, Little Red Riding is on her way to Grandma's house with her basket of goodies."

Chloe squinted at his commentary and the sudden, disturbing image of Ginny slowly making her way down some ruined street came quickly to her mind's eye.

"Fairytale versus reality," he stated grimly. "Gotham is trying to live its own version of happily ever after. So here's how this works. In the next twenty minutes, if you decide to raise that pretty little butt out of your chair, Ginny's little basket of goodies blows 6th street all over District 12 . However, if _she_ doesn't find the house made of bricks then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow _your_ house down," he mocked.

There was a pause.

"There is no such thing as happily ever after," he stated in a grim tone. "The reality is that only one of you might walk out of here tonight to show Gotham how it all never really works out in the end."

oOo

"Did you get that, Lucius?"

Lucius sat and watched the screens diligently before him as he listened on an alternate frequency the horrendous plan set by the Joker.

"As usual, he's operating from a separate location," Lucius informed, just a little despairingly. "As of now, I can't get an exact location, but you can bet he's watching. So my advice is…be careful."

"What about Gordon's men?"

"They're closing in on 6th street, but they're moving slowly," Lucius replied. "No sign of a bomb squad. But if the Joker sees them--"

"He'll make sure there will be no need for one," was the gruff prediction. "Patch me in to Gordon."

oOo

His silence was suddenly punctuated by an electrical snap of the speaker that made Chloe nearly leap out of her chair, which she consciously made certain not to do. Instead, she tried her very level best to maneuver around the chair without rising out of the seat. There had to be a detonator, a trigger, anything that could disable the explosive that she was literally sitting on.

"Don't move," was the rough command that came from the darkness.

Suddenly startled, Chloe ceased her struggle. She squinted to peer into the darkness towards the direction of the voice.

"This entire building is wired to explode," the voice came from behind her.

"Really, Sherlock?" she snapped in a mocking tone. "You mean I'm not here just to yell, _"Fire in the hole"_?

An aggravated growl managed to rumble its way to her ears with such reverberation that Chloe was certain the sensitivity would send her sky high in that second, but felt her nerves jump once she realized he was right beside her, examining the wires beneath her. "Do you mind?" she nearly screeched. But even in the shadows, she could see that he was closely examining the wires to the old desk. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"The Joker never waits. Anything could be a detonator. One wrong move and you could end up blowing the entire district to hell," he informed roughly.

"Me?" she sounded in incredulous

"You get the idea."

"I _get_ that I've been wired to enough explosives to launch the Saturn V rocket," she shot at him. "Forgive me if I'm not exactly Miss Suzy Sunshine."

She felt movement from behind her. "Detonator with weight-compression trigger," he informed. "A pressure plate just under the seat with eighteen minutes remaining."

"All right, hang on," was the voice of Lucius that only he could hear from a headset.

Chloe felt his gloved hands that seemed to be operating around her feet. Immediately she panicked. "No, if you can get Ginny out of here first, then please…" she practically begged.

"No chance," he replied matter-of-factly. "Your friend is being watched. If the Joker so much as catches a whiff of me, she'd dead anyway."

"How do you know that isn't the case here?" she suggested.

"Because I've got people."

"So does _H&R Block_, but that doesn't exactly instill a lot of confidence when the two things you can always count on are death and taxes," she parried, beginning to feel the resolve inside begin to crack. This was exactly the situation that she had been trying to avoid in Metropolis. She should've known that this could happen, that it _would_ happen -- that _she _was the proverbial magnet.

"He didn't plan on either one of us walking out of here," Chloe said with revelation.

"The Joker actually _does_ have a method to his madness," he revealed with a sense of mystery, expecting her to fill in the blanks.

"Sorry, I didn't exactly get my doctorate in Psychotic Clown School."

He only growled in response. "The idea is that Ginny walks into any house on 6th street and the school explodes," he informed, more than a little agitated. "He's testing you. To see if you value your own life over the life of a friend."

"A sacrificial circumstance?"

"Call it whatever you like," he said in a dismissive manner. "There's no reason one of you has to die when I can get both of you out."

"Like hell," Chloe shot back at him. "As long as you're here then it's obvious that she's not coming out of this alive. I won't have her blood on my hands!"

"There won't be any blood if you keep still," he growled in aggravation. "You can feel guilty later."

The anxiety was pushing at her chest. Feeling the beginnings of tears prick the corners of her eyes, Chloe began to panic in earnest and clenched her jaw in frustration. "How could you possibly get us both out of here alive?" she nearly shouted. "If you insist on saving one of us, it shouldn't be me," she declared, overcome with waves of guilt.

Aggravated, he fixed his dark gaze at her. "Are you so ready to die?" he growled angrily.

Feeling only desperation, Chloe took a determined, but shaky breath. "_I_ got her into this," she declared, her voice crackling with guilt-ridden sorrow. "No one needs to die…because of me."

A beat and not a word.

Squeezing her eyes against the tears, she felt him pause for a moment. Chloe let out a gasp of relief only to be confronted by a dark pair of eyes, hard and unblinking; as if trying to drill his strong determination and confidence into her by his will alone.

"You have to trust me."

He wouldn't stop looking at her. Even in the darkness, she could see his strength of mind; an unwavering confidence that managed to fill those empty depths.

Chloe nodded. "Okay," she whispered.

Only then he turned away from her and went back to work. "No one's going to die," he declared strongly. "Besides, the Joker is always watching from a distance," he informed. "He may set the stage, but he never releases control."

"Which would explain why the explosives are on a motion trigger," Chloe deduced, surprisingly feeling a bit more at ease now that her mind occupied with figuring out how to circumvent the situation. "But if he has the detonator—"

"How much do you weigh?"

Chloe's mouth snapped shut for a beat. "Excuse me?"

oOo

Lucius paced determinedly, hands on hips as he listened to the current situation. Without the benefit of true visuals, Lucius' mind was running over possibilities and solutions like well-oiled clockwork.

"Motion and pressure triggers," he said, commentating his thoughts. "With one trigger setting off the other. The devices are individual," he informed quickly as he continued to think. "Either the trigger is disabled or the switch for the detonator must be disabled at the source," he deduced with sudden realization and rushed back towards his console. "I'm sending the information through to Gordon now."

"We may not have time," Batman informed as he watched the digital timer ticking down second-by-second.

"I'm no Martin Riggs, but can't you just cut the red wire?" Chloe interjected.

"It's the blue wire and I can't risk it," he said quickly. "Lucius?"

"They're disabling the detonator now," he replied. "How much time?"

"Two minutes."

"Oh crap," Chloe gasped, beginning to feel extremely antsy, wanting so badly to leap out of the chair against her better judgment.

Batman continued to watch the timer. Each second seemed as if it were coming faster with no word from Lucius. He was fast determined that this wasn't happening again. There didn't need to be a wrong or right choice this time.

"Lucius!"

"No word yet," he informed gravely as he heard the desperation in his voice. "Do what you've got to do."

It was fast coming down to seconds and he couldn't wait any longer.

Chloe could only watch as he rose quickly, looking about the room as if searching desperately. He strode over to where she had noted the ancient television and despite the dire situation, felt quizzical when he picked it up and launched through the glass window.

"What are you doing?" she asked, as he stepped in between her and the window.

He looked down and then back at her with decisiveness and suddenly she knew. "Oh-no. You can't!" she shouted.

But there was no time. He grabbed her by the arm and hauled her up to him, enveloping both of them into his cape and leapt out of the window.

Chloe felt the full impact of their landing through is body. The ground began to rumble and shake with the explosions that were ripping through the building near them. They seemed to shudder through the protectiveness of his garb along with the sound of debris landing all around them. Chloe began to wonder which was louder; the explosions or the sound of her own heart.

After a moment, all was deadly silent and Chloe was nearly afraid to move. Only when she pressed to get up did she hear him groan. The sudden thought that he could've been killed and glad that he hadn't been ran through her mind.

"You all right?" he asked roughly.

"I'm fine," she declared with certainty, but suddenly realized one thing. "Ginny?" she leapt up and away from him.

"Lucuis?" was all he said.

"She's fine," Lucius informed. "They were able to disable the detonator."

"Your friend is safe," he informed as he rose to meet her worried expression.

Chloe was near to speechless. What could she say? She'd berated him because of her lack of faith. Now he stood before her, his great chest heaving with exertion and both were still alive. Yet somehow, there were no words. No words, except…

"Thank you."

He seemed unaffected. He only stepped closer to her.

"And I'm sorry," he said gruffly.

Before Chloe could protest, he grabbed her and she was quickly immobilized by a strange mist and then back into blissful oblivion.

oOo

A/N: Whaddya think? :-)


	22. Chapter 22

_Author's Note: It has been brought to my attention that I made a subconscious boo-boo in the last chapter. But I'll work with it. It needed to come out anyway :-) Anyway, here's some more filler. Hope you enjoy! _

Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, DC Comics, etc.

oOo

Darkness was closing in on her.

The air was hot and stifling.

Explosions were still rattling in her ears.

Chloe lurched up gasping for air.

Blackness met her, but it wasn't what she'd expected. The last she remembered was being held inside a suffocating cocoon only to lose consciousness yet again.

Rubbing the grogginess from her eyes, she focused in on her surroundings. Through the haze she recognized her work station by the window next to the fire escape. The window was open, the breeze of the city blowing and plucking at the curtains.

"My apartment?" she queried aloud to no one in particular. No longer feeling the rock hard concrete beneath her, Chloe realized that she had been placed in the comforts of her soft bed. It was still tangled in disarray from where she hadn't made it this morning. Running her hands along the coverlet, her fingers encountered something large and rough.

Pulling the cover back, she found a large manila envelope. There was no handwriting, no marks of any kind. Nothing that would indicate what could be inside or if she should be recipient.

Not one for decorum due to the disease of being ever-the-snoop, Chloe didn't waste any time as she opened the envelope and dumped out the contents. Papers and glossy photographs along with a small flash drive landed in her lap.

Renewed by curiosity, Chloe leapt from the bed, contents in hand and rushed over to the lamp by her workstation.

The pictures were of Steven Van Zandt, the political commentator at the Gotham Gazette. Some of the photos showed him alone in certain areas in what was unmistakably, the Narrows. But the smoking gun was about four shots that had been taken of Van Zandt and Maroni looking rather friendly as they were seen at one of Gotham's most exclusive _"gentleman club_" and leaving later with _"escorts_". Dates and times included.

Among the papers were lists of Van Zandt's latest transactions, withdrawals, deposits, cell phone records, and GPS tracking of every place he'd been in the last two weeks.

"Unbelievable," Chloe gasped with a smile of excitement.

Taking note of the open window, Chloe quickly shoved the contents back inside the manila envelope and stepped out onto the fire escape. There was no mystery how she came by such a journalistic treasure.

Gazing out over the city, she couldn't help wondering.

Was he still out there?

'_No matter,'_ she thought and turned back to her computer with a grin. She had a hell of a story to crank out.

oOo

Free from the constraint of his attire, Bruce sat before the barrage of screens, each with photographs of the political reporter that he'd come across during his rather restrictive investigation of the one reporter he was certain had something to hide.

"I take it that she was ecstatic with your little bit of news?" Alfred questioned from behind him.

Bruce turned only to be confronted with a silver tray full of coffee and a variety of pastries. "I don't know," he replied as he gazed over his choices before ultimately picking a scone drizzled with honey. "I didn't stick around to find out."

"Guilt, perchance?" Alfred proposed, prompting Bruce to look up with raised brows of question.

"That perhaps you just might have been wrong about her," Alfred replied.

Bruce grinned with a huff as he took a bite of scone. "No," he replied, mouth full. "I was avoiding the very real possibility of her attempting to pummel me to death once she realized what I'd done."

Alfred didn't need to ask. "I'm sure you could've buttered her up with that small package of yours," he answered.

At that, Bruce did look up.

Alfred, understanding immediately, allowed his head to sway in exasperation. "I meant, sir, the information on Mr. Van Zandt."

"Oh."

Alfred watched him carefully as he turned back around to face the screens, another scone in hand. "But I take it, you're still not convinced."

For a moment, Bruce merely looked away in thoughtful contemplation. Obviously she had no mob connections, but his gut kept telling him that something wasn't right. "I don't know, Alfred."

"Well then, might I say that you attract more flies with honey than with vinegar?"

oOo

"Ugh!!" Chloe groaned, roughly threading her hand through the hair at her temple.

For twenty four hours, Chloe had cut off all communication to and from the world.

It was four in the morning. Press was going to roll in a matter of hours. Most of the story had taken care of itself, but she had yet to come up with a dramatic opener.

Chloe had turned on the television for company given recent events. Leaving it on the _Sleuth Channel_, it sounded as though they were wrapping up a marathon and getting ready to start another one.

Gotta love cable.

Rushing towards the kitchen for some extra coffee, Chloe passed by the television to see yet another _'80's_ series blaring its way across the screen in a rather sharp-looking Trans Am.

Eh, even if it did smack of a little cheese, the car made the show: all the gadgets _and_ personality.

That thought alone made her pause for a moment.

"_Knight Rider"_

"_A shadowy flight into the dangerous world of a man… **who does not exist**"._

Chloe's brain immediately went online as she stared hard, but almost unseeing at the television.

"_A young loner on a crusade to champion the cause of the innocent, the helpless, the powerless…_

"_In a world of criminals who operate above the law."_

"Oh my god," she mumbled with a wondrous smile into her coffee cup.

oOo

"Because of you, this place has been a veritable 24-hour lunatic asylum!" Walt informed with a chastising tone, fixing her with his steely gaze.

Chloe merely lowered her lids in challenge.

The grin that slowly spread across his face was like Grey Poupon for Chloe.

"Is all this true?" Walter asked, his eyes scrunched with skepticism, but alight with a certain bit of hope.

Chloe grinned from ear-to-ear. "Every word," she affirmed.

Walter cocked his head, eyeing her skeptically. "Source?"

"You have to ask?" she replied in a blasé sort of tone.

"Excellent!" he half-shouted with delight.

"Well, get it down to copy. It'll run tomorrow," he informed, picking up his handset. "Oh, by the way, I decided to give Ginny a little vacation. She asked me to give this to you," he added, handing her a small card.

"A little out of character for Ginny, don't you think?" Chloe remarked with a scrunch of skepticism as she opened the card.

**I've had enough adventure. **

**--G**

Chloe only grinned at the point blank cynicism. She was just glad that Ginny was okay and felt a strange form of relief that Ginny would be far enough away. Chloe was certain that this whole mob war was going to get worse before it got better.

"I gotta hand it to ya, Hildy," Walter said, leaning back in his chair. "But I gotta ask. Are you all right?"

Chloe looked back at Walter with every bit of excitement and confidence that she felt. "I told you that you were getting a seasoned reporter. I'm fine, Walt."

"Then go out there and celebrate, take the day off or whatever it is you do to relax. Trust me, you've earned it."

oOo

"What the hell were you thinking?" Sal Maroni shouted.

"Salli, Salli, Salli,--

"No!" Maroni shouted as he paced. "No!" he reiterated with a punctuated point of his finger. "You've put the cops back on our trail again. They'll be dogging my every move."

"Okay, okay," the Joker said with upraised hands. "I see your point. You got caught with your pants down, right? No big surprise there," he said with a shrug. "So you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar? Everyone saw it coming," he reasoned.

"But you see," he added with innocently raised brows and shaking finger. "You see…"

"When you're looking over here," he directed with a wave and twirl of his right palm to reveal a hankerchief, delighted to see he had Maroni's befuddled attention.

"You don't see what's going on over here."

oOo

So much for taking the day off.

Chloe had exited Walt's office just in time to see Gotham's finest escort Mr. Steven Van Zandt from the floor.

It was then Chloe found herself confronted by Jim Gordon.

"Want to tell me again why I had to hear about this second hand?"

"Because that's how I got it," she replied simply.

"You could've brought it to us first," he suggested. "You should've given a statement."

Chloe crossed her arms. "Look, Mr. Gordon. I respect you. I respect what you do. But the fact is, he could've brought it to you first. But he didn't. He brought to me," she replied.

Jim Gordon could only shift his weight as he stared at the very calm reporter.

"I think we both know he had his reasons," she added. "Why? I couldn't tell you. But I'm sure _he_ can," she finished, clearly stating her position.

Jim only looked at her and then nodded lightly. "Fair enough," he said as he turned to leave. "Only next time—at least give me a head's up."

Chloe grinned. "Capiche."

And with that, Chloe found herself alone again as she swung around to an empty floor.

Things were hardly back to normal. At least she felt accomplished and definitely pleased with herself to some degree. It was any moment that Clark or Oliver would catch wind of her new activities and do their level best to haul her ass out of there before she could say, "Wha?????"

Chloe turned back to her screen and out of sudden exasperation, leaned her head heavily onto her right hand. These weren't the days that Chloe had counted on before consigning herself to this variant form of witness protection.

Oddly enough, she thought with a huff of irony, today just so happened to be her birthday. Hardly a milestone and she'd only happened to remember herself earlier in the day. A few days prior to her impromptu powder keg party, she had already decided to spend her birthday as uneventful as possible. However, in lieu of recent events, she was beginning to feel that the tiniest bit of recognition would've been nice.

Obviously, there would be no major party, but even a small private one with Lois, along with a stack full of DVD's and a bucket of popcorn, would've had been nice.

A quick glance to her very silent cell phone reminded her that even Clark could risk a quick phone call to wish her a _"Happy Birthday"_, but so far there'd been nothing.

Gazing at the clock, she was willing to call it a day. Rising from her chair, Chloe placed her hands on her hips, feeling as though she wasted the day, but also with a nagging sense that something huge was missing. Crossing her arms, Chloe found her feet taking her across the room to the windows that revealed the city night life coming alive as dusk began to settle into twilight.

Lights were blinking on and off in the various buildings along Gotham's skyline and Chloe found that her wondering vision settled onto the center of it all: Wayne Tower.

Bruce Wayne.

Leaning against the glass, she began to think that he was fast becoming as much of an enigma as this Batman, perhaps even more so.

"Uh, Miss?" was the timid inquiry she heard from behind.

Chloe turned only to suddenly flinch away from a huge, arrangement of vibrant orange and pink tulips. "Hello?" she nearly giggled. "Is anyone back there?"

The arrangement turned to reveal a very shy looking young man who quickly gave Chloe an appraising look and said quickly, "I believe these are for you."

Still smiling, Chloe squinted in confusion and shook her head. "Did I win a sweepstakes?" she laughed quietly. "There must be some mistake. These couldn't be for me," she stated, omitting all the reasons why. "You must have the wrong person," she said even as he set them down on her desk.

"No m'am," he replied assuredly as he turned to leave.

Chloe quickly found a card hiding amongst the budding mass of flowers.

'_For a special day,' _she read.

Chloe's brows furrowed for a moment as she looked at the card. "Wait a minute," she called as she trotted up to the guy. "Who sent these?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, m'am," he replied, his expression apologetic.

Chloe scoffed, but all in good nature with a smile. "Well, how do you know you've got the right person?"

"He said I'd recognize you by your smile, m'am," he replied, with one-sided grin of his own. "And he was right, m'am. It is amazing."

Still confused, Chloe watched the delivery guy walk away. "Who on earth…?" she quizzed as she looked at the arrangement that seemed to explode from what appeared to be an intricate crystal bud vase. Delicately touching the soft petals, Chloe smiled. They were absolutely beautiful.

'_Clark?_' she wondered. He was one of few people that knew tulips were her favorite flower.

Well, maybe. But this…this was way too extravagant for Clark.

'_Oliver?'_

At that, she nearly wanted to laugh out loud. The extravagance was definitely his style, yet this was way too personal and not even Oliver knew that tulips were her favorite.

Perhaps, Clark made a request.

'_Yeah_', she nodded. '_That's it._'

Feeling certain, Chloe quickly turned to other issues. "Well, that's one mystery solved," she said aloud and turned back for one final glance to the city. "Now time to put on my detective cap for the game is certainly afoot."

oOo

_Author's Note: Okay, I'll give you a hint. (Bruce sent the flowers)._


	23. Chapter 23

_Author's Note: Sheesh! I hadn't realized that I was writing a novel here. I guess I'd better pick up the pace a little. But not today_ :-) _ Don't forget that Vincent is my own version of a pre-V for Vendetta, V. Just to give Chloe a little someone to talk to. I mean, c'mon. With all that brooding, we need a little swashbuckling now and then _:-)

Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, DC comics, yaddy-yada, so on and so forth.

oOo

Lex couldn't be found.

Moira was missing.

Chloe had no idea.

And Lois knew _everything_!

Clark was doing his level best not to completely freak out on the inside as he eyed Star City's own version of Belle Reve loom overhead in an all encompassing structure of reflective glass, state-of-the-art surveillance, and enough armed security to make San Quentin jealous.

And he was getting ready to waltz right in and start asking questions.

'_That ought to go over like a lead balloon,' _he thought grimly.

Taking a deep breath, Clark grasped the chrome door handle and looked towards his destination.

And nearly passed out.

Standing in front of the very agitated receptionist was the unmistakable form of a very peculiar brunette.

_Crap_

Clark pushed on through the door only to be greeted by Lois' aggravated voice that cut through the very quiet lobby with all the sensitivity of a buzz saw.

"And I'm telling _you_,"—she emphasized with a pointing push to the woman's chest "—that _I_ _am_ family and I want to know how this '_state-of-the-art facility'--_she made quotations in the air—"not only lost one patient, but _my _aunt. I mean, the woman is catatonic for crying out loud! What did it take to get her out of here? The entire cast of _Ocean's Eleven_?" she finally finished in an incredulous tone.

Clark cringed inwardly. "I'm sorry, m'am," he apologized as he stepped towards them. "She's a little worked up. You understand, right?"

Lois turned furrowed brows up at him. "What the hell are you doing here, Smallville?"

Clark merely smiled at the receptionist. "Keeping you out of trouble," he gritted through his pearly whites and added a little chuckle.

"I was just telling your friend here that I am unable _by law--_" she looked pointedly at Lois—"to disclose any information regarding the incident involving Mrs. Sullivan."

"Apparently, I'm not related enough," Lois said with a sarcastic smile.

"Only the next-of-kin, Ms. Sullivan, is privy to the information and we've been trying to get in touch with her, but haven't received word from her at the moment," the woman droned at Lois.

"Ms. Sullivan is on vacation," Clark explained calmly. "I'm sure we'll be able to contact her soon. Could we, by any chance, speak with the supervisor as to what measures are being taken?"

The receptionist gave Clark a small apologetic smile in contrast to the scrunched up frustration that Lois had received. "I'm afraid he's indisposed at the moment. He had a scheduled meeting this morning. I can tell you that the local police have been notified as well as the F.B.I.," she informed, sounding more concerned than she had a moment ago.

"Thank you, m'am," Clark nodded. "May we keep in touch—just in case we're unable to reach Ms. Sullivan right away?"

"Certainly," she agreed with a smile. "But you'll have to come in person," she amended quickly. "Security measures. I'm sure that won't be a problem."

"Of course not," Clark smiled.

"Yeah, 'cuz security is obviously a top priority around here," Lois ground low between her teeth.

"Thank you so much for your help," Clark said to the woman who was now making sharp eyes at Lois. "You have a nice day," he added and yanked on Lois' arm to signal that they were leaving.

"You too!" the woman called sweetly as they walked out the glass doors.

As soon as they were out the doors, Clark swung Lois around in front of him.

"What the hell, Smallville?" she complained, rubbing her arm absently. "I was just about to pull out the big guns on that woman."

"Yeah, I can see that was going to get you straight in to the scene of the crime," Clark quipped. "Another moment and I'd be bailing you out of jail."

"And another moment, I thought I was going to have pry her off of you with the Jaws of Life," she shot back.

Clark merely tossed her a look of sarcasm. "Well, at least we know that the authorities are involved. I'm sure you went barging in there demanding to see security tapes."

Lois crossed her arms and looked away in her trademark determined fashion.

Clark's shoulders dropped. "Lois, you didn't?"

"Someone has to find out what is going on," she declared with a haughty look. "I mean, they called _me._ Sure, they were looking for Chloe, but I have rights too!"

"Oh god, Lois," Clark groaned as he half-heartedly raised his arms up in a helpless motion.

Lois only squinted at him. "What are you even doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be trying to get a hold of Chloe since I'm the only one that wasn't let in on the big secret of where she decided to take sabbatical?" Hand on one hip, she leaned towards him threateningly. "I went to her apartment you know," she declared with a point of her finger. "And she wasn't even there. Some wacky old lady said she was living there now."

"Chloe decided to sublet until she got back," Clark answered quickly. For a millisecond he was quite proud of himself for such quick-thinking and convincing at that.

"Look, Lois, I'm going to talk to Oliver and see if we can't get things speeded up and in the meantime, I'll go find Chloe and this will all be resolved soon," he lied outrageously.

But it seemed to be enough. Lois finally conceded with a sigh and great drop of her shoulders. "All right," she finally said. "But keep me informed."

Clark gave an overly broad grin. "You know I will."

_Super-lying. Was that a new power?_

"Well, I'm going back to my hotel," she said. "You want to grab a bite or something?"

"Thanks Lois, but I need to find Oliver," he replied. "The sooner we can get on this, the better," he added.

"Keep me informed," she reiterated, once again, with a point of the finger.

"Sure thing," he said as he watched her walk away.

Clark whipped out his cell phone and hit the Oliver's number, which of course was on speed dial.

"_Mr. Queen's office_," was the polite greeting.

"Yeah. Get me the wacky old lady on the phone, please."

oOo

Given recent events, Chloe felt that logic should prevail and that her first instinct should've been to go straight home and barricade herself inside of her apartment the very minute that she left the _Gazette_. Yet the moment she hit the blustery cold air, she found herself turning right towards downtown instead of left towards the subway that would take her to her apartment.

As Chloe clacked down the street he wind began to pick up; further indication that she would be much better off in the warmth of her apartment, yet she simply couldn't make herself turn and go home. Oddly enough just the thought of being alone in her apartment made her feel anxious and vulnerable. Right now, she wanted to be surrounded by as many people as possible, even if they were strangers.

"Master Bruce, is this trip really necessary?" Alfred spoke into the Wayne version of Bluetooth.

Bruce stood as he watched the town car pull away. "This from the man that had the car warmed up as soon as I said we were going out tonight," Bruce replied, settling his eyes on his target from across the street.

"I can honestly say that I had no idea this was the plan," Alfred replied lightly. "I had thought that we decided she was harmless."

"You've always thought she was harmless, Alfred."

"And, so far, I think I can safely say that _'I told you so._'

"Regardless Alfred, the Joker is still out there and he seems to have an unusual attachment to this woman," Bruce said as he weaved in and out of people while keeping an eye out for Chloe and any suspicious activity.

"I think you can relate, sir," Alfred mumbled.

"What'd you say, Alfred?" Bruce asked genuinely.

"I said I'm stopping for a bite to eat," he covered beautifully. "May I get you something?"

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. Keep an eye out, will you."

oOo

Going over her options, Chloe wasn't too thrilled with her selection. She didn't feel like eating alone at home, nor did she want to be found sitting alone in a restaurant either. She wasn't in the mood for a movie at home or alone in a theater. There wasn't much to go shopping with as far as money went. She had no one to hang out with.

Apparently _JavaScript_ would be the only place to offer what she thought that she needed. At least at the internet cafe, she could have a modest meal, _i.e_. a muffin and sit in front of her laptop looking as though she had some form of purpose, be it merely surfing the web, but it was better than the alternative of looking pathetically alone.

A crowd of people were up ahead and Chloe realized that she was coming to the theater. She vaguely remembered a mention of an old classic coming to the theater and there was plenty of buzz that surrounded the acting company. Picking up her pace, she managed to come to the outer rim of people outside.

She stared up at the colorful marquis at the theater.

_Vincent Dietrich_

_Evelyn Stafford_

_The Scarlet Pimpernel_

Chloe gave a small smile. It _was_ a classic--not that she knew much about it. Most of what she knew didn't extend much further than a Saturday morning cartoon with Daffy Duck.

"Shall I perchance find a review of our performance in the paper?" she heard a familiar inquisitive voice.

Chloe whipped around suddenly, but couldn't help smiling when she realized who it was, her eyes widening at his appearance. "So, I see you're still in costume," she observed as she eyed his rather bright silk costume of the latter part of the 18th century, outlandish wig and all. "But to answer your question, no, I'll leave that to Judy. She seems to be the theater buff. I don't really get out to the theater much these days."

His blue eyes seemed to sparkle at bit with mirth. "So do I have Madame Curiosity to thank for this impromptu visit?" he asked.

"A little," Chloe grinned with a nod. "So, '_The Scarlet Pimpernel', huh_? That would definitely explain the charming demeanor and impeccable manners. So who would I be talking to now, Vincent Dietrich or Sir Percy Blakeney?" she asked, gesturing to his flashy, silken attire.

"S'ink me, m'dear!" he exclaimed, waving around a frilly handkerchief. "You have the privilege of speaking to Vincent Dietrich only _as _Sir Percy Blakeney," he exclaimed, bending elegantly to take her hand and bowing.

Chloe couldn't resist giggling.

Bruce couldn't resist gagging.

"So why all the pomp and circumstance?" she asked, gesturing to his attire.

"Intermission for the moment," he replied. "In addition that it seems that the sight of a few characters seems to help entice new theater buffs," he added, pointing a few feet away at some more gentleman dressed the same as he and a few ladies in their very lavish dresses and equally outlandish wigs. All were surrounded by interested passersby.

"I can see the appeal," Chloe murmured thoughtfully. "So will the Scarlet Pimpernel be making an appearance?" she prompted with a devious grin.

"Ah, m'dear! If the Scarlet Pimpernel should appear," he said aloud in a very dramatic fashion, catching the attention of a few passersby. He leaned in close to Chloe's ear. "No one should know for he is always in disguise," he said low in a lovely British rumble with a conspiratorial wink.

Chloe gave him a small smile, feeling a little disappointed that such a distraction hadn't deterred her anxiety.

"You seem troubled," was the sudden observance.

Chloe turned sharply, not realizing that she had drifted away for a moment and found a rather serious look of concern without the _dramatis personae_ that was in place a moment ago.

"Here, I have at least--," he looked at his watch "—forty-five minutes. Shall we?" he gestured down the sidewalk.

For a moment they walked in silence, unaware that a certain billionaire was keeping pace with them from the other side of the street.

"I read the paper this morning," Vincent said, his voice taking a serious turn. "Sounds as though there was quite a bit of trouble in the last couple of days. Would I be presumptuous if I said that you must have been tossed in the middle, head first?"

"Dragged under more like," she mumbled in reply. "But I don't understand why I feel so anxious!" she nearly exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "I mean, it isn't as though I haven't been dealt worse—as a reporter, I mean," she recovered quickly, suddenly realizing she that was spilling guts to a practical stranger.

"And everything seems to have turned out for the best," he added with a conversational nod. "No one was gravely injured, a few chaps went to jail, and Gotham seems to have gotten their hero back."

"Yeah," she mumbled. "You know, I usually get people," she said turning to him with a singular nod. "But this guy --this guy is a mystery. I mean, one minute he's a criminal and the next, he's a savior. One minute he's taking me down and the next, he's helping me. I just don't get it!"

Vincent eyed her carefully. "Perhaps it's merely a case of misunderstanding," he suggested.

Chloe couldn't help scoffing.

"Here, think for a moment," he began. "Take Marguerite and Percy. This intelligent, beautiful woman has no idea that her very foppish husband is the dashing and daring Pimpernel," he said with outrageous fencing moves to match. "He's ready to save perfect strangers from Madame Guillotine at the slightest whim, yet he has no idea that his wife was maliciously implicated in deaths she truly had no part of until it's nearly too late."

Chloe's face scrunched in confusion. "Okay?"

Vincent's tone softened, as did his entire demeanor. "Perhaps this Batman fellow realized his mistake. For despite his dramatic flair he is, after all, only human --like the rest of us."

Chloe looked at him, giving such a realization some sincere thought. "You know, you're very easy to talk to," she said with delightful surprise.

"For a lovely damsel, always willing to lend an ear," he replied with a small bow.

Chloe felt her mouth turn up in a quirk. "I'm going to have to read the Pimpernel one day."

"Why wait when you can see it play out for itself," he said, raising his hand in invitation towards the theater steps.

Chloe hadn't realized that they had already walked up and down the street before finally coming back to the theater. The idea was tempting, but…

"I really can't," she said with a scrunch of apology. "At least not tonight. I'll be fidgeting and my mind will be all over place and I'd hate to do you such a disservice of not paying attention."

"Very well," he said with an understanding nod, ready to return to the theater. Standing on the steps, he turned back towards her, character back in place. "However, I wish you the best of evenings with the hope that something will help take the world off your shoulders, even if only for a moment."

Chloe blushed a little under his words and nodded a _'thank you'_ as he dashed up the steps, catching the attention of a few more people that decided that perhaps, a night at the theater may serve them well.

Chloe resumed her path and found the closer she was to _JavaScript, _her anxiety not lessening as she approached like she hoped it would. Maybe if she came back later…

And she kept walking on past_ JavaScript _with no real destination.

Instead she found herself in front of Bokuden's Dojo. Tonight wasn't her class, but she could see that her sensei was directing a rather large class of beginners. She watched with a bit of envy as they practiced their katas and thought that if she ran back to her apartment quickly to grab her gear, perhaps her sensei would allow her to take part in one of his classes just for the focus.

Better yet, the idea of whacking someone repeatedly in a kendo match sounded a bit better. Maybe Sensei Kurosaki would be willing to lend some spare gear and save her the trip.

She turned suddenly, only to run smack into a wall.

A wall dressed in a very nice Armani shirt.

oOo

_Author's Note: I decided to cut it off here. I didn't want to double my word count._


	24. Chapter 24

_Author's Note:_ _There are a series of different stances you read here. But the main one is a reference to karate attire called gi. The choreography probably wouldn't flow in a real match, but I did the best I could. Hope this works for you guys!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, DC Comics, etc. _

oOo

Chloe practically bounced off of him as she ran smack dab into him. His hands shot out to clasp her arms to keep her from falling.

"Holy crap, I'm so sorry," Chloe apologized as she looked down to gain her footing. Raising her head, she swiped her hair away from her face. "I always seem to be…

"Falling all over me?" he quipped with a dimpled quirk in his smile. His eyes crinkled with mirth despite her open-mouthed expression of outrage. "Matter of fact, if I didn't know any better I'd swear you go weak in the knees when you're around me."

Her scoff was grossly exaggerated. "Don't flatter yourself," she said, smiling in spite of herself. "What are you doing here anyway?"

His dark brows shot up. "Nice to see you again too," was his sarcastic reply.

Chloe briefly closed her eyes. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean that how it came out. It's just that—well--I meant that this doesn't seem like a place you find Gotham's resident billionaire taking up his spare time. And yet this is the second time I've seen you here."

That sent his hands into his pockets. "Well, that just goes to show that you can't judge a book by its cover," he declared with a lofty tone, yet inwardly cringed at whipping out such an old cliché.

Chloe's own brows shot up with skepticism. "You're here for class?" she challenged.

He _was_ going to say that he had tried to call her desk, but that she'd already gone for the day.

He_ was_ going to make up some cock-and-bull story about giving another interview about District 12.

But before he could say another word, she cocked her head to the side with a curious smile. "You know, it would probably do you good to take some defense classes," she sounded very encouraging.

That sobered him immediately. He matched her look with a challenging one of his own. "Is that right?"

"Certainly," she replied innocently. "I mean, everyone needs to be able to defend themselves. Especially in this city."

"And you think I need to?" he continued.

"Well, why not?" she suggested. "Afraid you might mess up that handsome face of yours," she blurted and nearly snapped her mouth shut. With a haughty toss of her hair, she tried to resume her nonchalance and crossed her arms defensively. "Of course, I'm sure you would require only the best personal instructors for that particular thing," she added, trying to insult him, but found her eyes darting away towards the class for distraction.

"You think I'm handsome?" he teased.

Chloe gave him her best tired expression. "Focus, Mr. Wayne."

"All right," he conceded, mirroring her crossed arms and leaning onto his right leg. "All right. Let's see if I have what it takes to make it in one of_ your_ classes," he said, gesturing towards the door.

This was going to be too much fun.

oOo

"I must say this is rather unusual," Sensei Kurosaki addressed the two individuals sitting before him, fully dressed in black gi; spares that had been kept as backups. "Practice is essential and I do my best to encourage my students to train as much as possible."

The dojo was completely devoid of people. Both were sitting in proper stance; on the knees with legs crossed at the ankles beneath them while Sensei Kurosaki addressed them. "C.G. has become one of my intermediate students," he pointed out as he addressed Bruce. "Although, I must admit, I am rather surprised to see you here, Mr. Wayne. I do not advocate a novice being left alone to train with even one of my intermediate students. C.G. is still learning, but she's hardly a teacher. Her control is not completely honed. No offense, C.G.," he amended quickly.

"None taken, Sensei," she replied with a shy smile.

"While it's never too late to join a class, but it appears as though you are no stranger to the dojo. I take it you are somewhat versed in the art," he added, motioning to his mirrored stance.

At that, Chloe turned towards him; an obvious look of question on her face. He was staring straight ahead, his face expressionless.

Bruce hazarded a quick glance at Chloe from the corner of his eye before answering. "Um, yes," he began and cleared his throat. "I studied with many masters during my years, uh--abroad," he informed with a bit of mysterious lilt.

Chloe was fairly certain that it was an obvious reference to the missing years in which he'd been declared dead; years that he'd never spoken to anyone about. At least not that she had ever found in her own minor research.

"Well, the next class does not begin for another hour. Feel free to make use of the dojo until then. I have other business to attend. If you'll excuse me," he bowed at the waist and left them alone.

The standard awkward silence descended immediately. Chloe kept her eyes on the mat beneath her; almost afraid to even lift her glance to their reflections in front of them. This wasn't something she'd anticipated at all. What did she have to be nervous about? He was simply just another sparring partner. Yet along with that uncomfortable energy in her stomach, Chloe also had a whole new breed of questions bouncing inside of her mind.

"So, you_ have_ taken classes?" Chloe finally said, her voice quivered with nervous energy.

"I told you that you can't judge a book by its cover," he replied simply.

Oh, he irked her. "Big words coming from someone like you," she said, rising into ready stance.

He mirrored her movement. "Someone like me?"

Chloe slid her right foot into a guard position. "Oh, don't try that innocent billionaire act with me. I don't buy it," she said flatly. "I had you pegged the moment I laid eyes on you in the library."

Bruce stood along with her as they faced each other. "Where you broke a Tiffany lamp, if I recall correctly," he reminded her with a smile.

Chloe's eyes scrunched into a squint that might have made even John Wayne proud as she raised her arms, fists turned upward and settled at hip level.

Bruce did the same and all with a smile. "For which I've never been paid back, by the way."

"Oh, I'll pay you back," Chloe replied threateningly.

She quickly lunged forward, throwing a series of jabs. Bruce merely moved his head from left to right, effectively dodging each one and grasping her right wrist on the last jab in an attempt to engage her in a submission hold, but Chloe twisted it away from him and leapt back.

"Not bad," he taunted, but seemed genuinely impressed. "Maybe you're not as flimsy as I thought."

"Flimsy?" she half-shouted and charged at him then with a combination of front and reverse jabs, each of which he blocked ultimately grabbing the lapel of her gi.

Chloe only smiled as she swept her hand down his extended arm, grabbing his wrist and turning with such force that he immediately hit his knees; which was precisely where she wanted him.

"How's _that_ for flimsy?"

In an instant, Bruce reached out and flipped her foot out from under her, causing her to land rather hard on her backside with a great thud. "I was always told to be mindful of your surroundings," he said with such blithe arrogance that Chloe nearly decided to forego any semblance of honor and go all out with good old-fashioned American street fighting.

Instead, Chloe leapt away from him, resuming her guard position. Only this time, Bruce came at her with a series of front and side kicks. A few she proudly dodged, which was the best she could do against a few snap kicks. He was too tall for her to be able to leap at his neck and begin to choke him as her instructor in Metropolis had demonstrated. She oughta know. She'd practiced on Clark numerous times.

"_Chloe, seriously," Clark had droned in boredom with Chloe dangling down his back as she struggled in futility to bring him down from her choke hold. _

Chloe couldn't help thinking back on that memory with sentimental humor.

"What are you smiling about?" Bruce asked, his own spreading across his face.

"Just how I'm gonna make you fetch the pebble from my hand, _grasshopper_," she replied, a little more mischievously than she intended, but she was having too much fun.

He couldn't help chuckling at her giddy confidence and came at her with another side kick, but this time Chloe amazingly managed to grab his extended leg while sweeping his other leg out from under him.

Bruce knew the maneuver; knew that if he hadn't leapt up to land face down on his arms that she could've torn out his knee. He turned to look at her unable to hide his amazement that she could achieve such a technique. She, on the other hand, was back in guard position and smiling like a wily fox with a playful look in her eye.

"So that's how you want to play, eh?" he mumbled with a crafty smile of his own.

Bruce merely rose to sit on his knees. Facing Chloe, who was still standing and he raised his hands in a taunting gesture.

From then on, each and every time Chloe charged at Bruce, he only had to simply twist her wrist or arm to use her own power against her; which, in turn, flung Chloe to the mat instantly.

Each time she hit the mat, Bruce became more amused and Chloe became more frustrated, yet determined. In one last ditch effort, Chloe came at him with one of her best jabs and he merely flipped her over once again with a loud thud that hit hard enough to knock the breath from her as she landed on her back.

Bruce immediately leapt over the top of her, his elbows and knees effectively trapping and pinning to her to the mat, his nose mere inches from hers. Both were breathing heavily as they seemed to stare at each other in a new battle of wills. Her green gaze flashed brightly with well-contained fury up at him and he noted that her cheeks had turned a rather enticing shade of pink. Sweat had begun to trickle from her temples and he was becoming very aware of her light body just beneath his own.

"Give up yet?" he goaded.

"Are you kidding?" And before he realized what was happening, Chloe grabbed his lapels in both hands, slid her feet into his chest and propelled him over her head, hearing a most satisfying thud as he hit the mat a few feet away.

Chloe jumped up then and lunged at him as he picked himself up from the mat. He foolishly grabbed the lapel of her gi again and didn't have time to register surprise when she turned, shoved her hand in his face and unceremoniously managed to lift him up for a belt drop. However, she wasn't strong enough disengage his hands and he brought her down with him as he fell to the mat with Chloe landing on top of him.

Once Chloe realized what had happened, it took every muscle in her body to remain where she was. His very solid body lay beneath hers with neither of them making a move and somehow, she simply couldn't make herself get up. She would not allow this man to intimidate her no matter how badly she wanted to scurry away from him and run like a little girl out of the dojo. But it was becoming more apparent that she could no longer keep denying what was becoming a budding attraction to him and she wanted to kick herself for feeling as though she were one among millions that panted after the man.

'_He's a typical, womanizing player,'_ she quickly reminded herself, but the look in his dark brown eyes simply wouldn't make the pep talk stick.

She was so used to this type of man: rich, powerful and quite full of himself. He was arrogant to a fault just like all the others.

But now—now those dark eyes that practically exuded arrogance now looked as if they were brilliant—brilliant with wonder and perhaps even a little bit of respect.

His hands still held her gi at the lapels and Chloe just knew that he could practically feel her heart thudding from her chest. She kept telling herself that it was the physical activity and nothing more, but that was hardly how she felt.

"You're very good," he murmured, breaking the silence between them. "I'm impressed."

Chloe didn't even have the inclination to gloat like she so badly wanted. Instead, she remained staring down at him, feeling a little surprise of her own. "So who wins?"

'_You __**cannot**__ fall for this man,"_ she reprimanded herself quickly.

But no more than a millisecond that it took for that thought to flit through her mind than her entire body received the shock of his lips reaching up to hers.

His hands were fisted in her gi and pulling her closer against him. As for Chloe, his lips were virtually erasing all thoughts from her mind. Her mental protests; her reaches for indifference; her handle on reality--they were all melting away along with the rest of her.

She'd stiffened when he began to kiss her and it frightened him in an odd way. As if she knew that she could be kissing a monster. But it had only been a moment and she quickly became soft and pliant. So much so that he could've forgotten where they were.

But remembering himself—remembering her, Bruce knew that she deserved a semblance of respect and broke the kiss, but not too abruptly. This wasn't something he planned at all. Yet the soft and heady look in her green eyes was nearly enough for him to say _'to hell with everyone else' _and continue kissing her, letting it take them wherever it may.

A gentle clearing of the throat caught the attention of both of them. Bruce looked up to see the upside version of Alfred's face staring down at both of them. "Forgive me, sir, I don't mean to interrupt—

Before he could get another word out, Chloe had leapt up and away from him. Swiping a stray lock behind her ear, she said not a word, but quickly gathered her clothes. She glanced at him with sudden uncertainty and then ran to the door, turned and bowed (with respect to the dojo), and plunged into the darkness of Gotham's streets leaving Alfred and Bruce to stare after her in befuddlement and confusion, respectively.

Still looking after the long closed doors of the dojo, Alfred finally spoke. "Were you able to find out what you wanted to know?"

"More than I thought," was all he mumbled and turned to gather his own belongings.

oOo

Chloe practically flung herself into her loft apartment and leaned heavily against the door, her chest heaving from practically running nearly the entire way from the dojo.

'_What am I doing?'_ she thought with a restless roll of the eyes. Had she learned nothing in her few past experiences? A magic eight-ball could've easily given her the answer: _All Signs Point to No_.

Pushing away from the door, she absently flung her stuff onto the already cluttered island in the kitchen.

He was a smooth operator and she had to keep telling herself that was a fact. Yet her conscience simply wouldn't allow her pass such a sentence on someone she had never truly learned anything about to begin with.

'_The facts Sullivan. Just the facts,"_ was what she had thought originally when she first starting building his profile after his proposition of reforming District 12. And thus far, that was all she had. The rest was simply a mystery.

With that thought, she glided over to her computer. A few punches of the keys and she had her own ready-made profile up and on screen.

She remembered thinking just how devastated he must've been at such a young age, losing his parents to the violence of Gotham when he was no more than a child. However, he had fallen out of the public eye through the years under the shadow of speculation regarding his family's company not long afterward.

It wasn't until the Joe Chill trial that he had resurfaced briefly to attend and disappeared shortly thereafter for nearly seven years, causing more speculation. Some had said that Chill's imminent release and subsequent murder had been too much for him. Others said that he was probably living it up on his own private island. The rest didn't seem to care as, once again, public speculation fell away from him and back to his company.

No one else seemed to care. There were no other relatives to speak of; no real close friends.

At least she had Lois and sometimes, even Lucy. Not to mention, all of her friends.

Bruce seemed dead-set on going it alone.

Something else about the man pestered and plagued her mind, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it could be. Her mind kept going back to that kiss from only a moment ago.

The sudden thought of coffee was the only thing that propelled Chloe away from work station, yet instead she missed the kitchen entirely and found herself trudging towards her bed.

Before she knew it, Chloe had fallen on the soft mattress and sleep blessedly followed.

oOo

The sound of something hitting her pillow woke Chloe immediately; her eyes shooting wide open at the disturbance.

Red, digital numbers glared 2:00 a.m. at her.

Her mind was still a little fuzzy from sleep and sure that she'd been dreaming, Chloe flipped to her other side to get comfortable and go back to sleep. Instead she was greeted with another large manila envelope laying on her other pillow.

Recognition hit suddenly and she lurched out of bed as she soon realized that her window was open. Still dressed in her gi, she grabbed the envelope and crawled out of the window.

Heart pounding, she quickly climbed up to the rooftop only to be met with empty space. A thud of disappointment hit her square in the chest.

Turning back towards the city once more, she hugged her arms about herself to ward off the cold breeze that began whooshing across the rooftop.

"You should be resting."

Chloe whirled quickly; his silhouette unmistakable in the shadows stood several feet away.

Despite everything she'd told herself about this particular man; despite everything she'd heard about this man; she found that she smiled.

"I could say the say the same about you. You certainly took more of beating than I did," she replied, referring to the tumultuous night in District 12 that seemed so far away now.

He said nothing; didn't even move. As always, she took the initiative and stepped closer to him. Looking down at the large manila envelope, Chloe turned inquisitive eyes back on the dark figure. "You know, I thought you were making it your business to take me down. Why are you helping me?"

"I'm helping Gotham," he informed in a rather brusque manner.

She flinched. "Oh," was her quick reply and cast her eyes in a mild disappointment. "So why not just drop this with your good buddy, Gordon?"

"Gordon has enough to worry about," he replied. "This will make the people act."

"And if I refuse?" she posed with a curious air, her brows lifting in a challenge.

He only looked at her and she detected the faintest hint of a smirk in one upturned corner of his mouth.

She dropped her shoulders in defeat. "You knew I wouldn't," she declared, dejected; but shot him a suspicious sideways glance. "But I'm not sure how I feel about being used as another one your tools."

"If I wanted a tool, I would've chosen someone else," he replied. "Van Zandt has been on the take with the mob for years. He's paid by the mob to inadvertently sway or frighten readers, influence businesses to favor them and send coded messages to partners and enemies. This is a follow-up. The clincher," he said, nodding to the envelope in her hand. "Van Zandt is ambitious, resourceful …and he doesn't like you."

Chloe raised a considerable brow at that statement. She was well aware of just how much she annoyed Van Zandt. But Batman had her pegged as a criminal and for that and she had bristled at wanting to make him out to be the hero that Walter was so certain the people needed to read about. But he'd changed things.

But whatever the case, the Batman had clear cut ideas of right and wrong…no matter how wrong he thought he was about being right.

"So does this mean that I write for you now?" she asked. She held up the envelope. "You put all this work into something that could end up in the garbage?" she proposed, knowing full well that he had copies.

"You write for the people of Gotham. It's your decision and your decision alone," he replied matter-of-factly. And with that he turned away as if he might disappear before her very eyes.

"It would kill you, wouldn't it?" she called out suddenly, taking a few steps forward.

He turned suddenly, looking at her from the corner of his eye. His expression stoic, but only she seemed to see the question in his eyes.

"That maybe you were wrong about me," she finally said.

He flashed her that damn smirk and grunted just before he dove over the side of the building.

She cocked her head to the side. "Maybe I was wrong about you too," she murmured thoughtfully.

oOo

Author's Note: _Just letting you know, most of the martial arts that I used were karate, jujitsu and aikido, which is what Bruce was using to take Chloe down repeatedly. There's a YouTube video of karate vs. aikido if you want a demonstration. It's really cool to watch all those videos. I haven't take any classes personally, but my sister has and she was a big help. However, I might just try to find me a good instructor for a few classes. It seems really cool! Hope you enjoyed!_


	25. Chapter 25

_Author's Note: A little filler...as if it needed more. _

_Disclaimer: Don't own DC comics. _

oOo

Lucius Fox slowly ran a heavy hand over his tired face.

"Lex, Lex," Lucius clucked in a disapproving manner as he stared at the numerous windows open on the screen in front of him. Allowing his glasses to dangle lightly from his pinched grasp, Lucius continued his investigation of what the unusual young billionaire had been up to in these last few years. Oh sure, Lucius had paid enough attention when the time warranted, but after he'd been sent down to R & D, his primary focus had been on his own ideas. Now it seemed to be more pressing to pay closer attention after Luthor's abrupt albeit interesting visit.

While Lex had been making a name for himself in the business of Luthorcorp, it seemed that there had been plenty of failed projects that had pointed to some serious ethical dilemmas for both Lex and Lionel, before the latter had passed unexpectedly. However, as it stood now, most of the accusations had been purely conjecture on the part of the press.

So for now, sufficed to say, he was making do with preliminaries; simple stuff that could only be found in newspapers, blogs and devoted websites.

Lionel and Lex seemed to have settled down between a sizable country home in Smallville, Kansas and a generous penthouse in Metropolis with both close to business, respectively. In addition, Luthorcorp had been actively involved in certain areas of the local community of Smallville, with particular attention to the local high school.

Scrolling down a society page of the _Daily Planet_, Lucius found something that made his brows rise with intrigue.

'_**Luthor Marries! Three Times a Charm?' **_

"Good lord," Lucius chuckled lightly, his eyes barely grazing over the caption at the bottom.

As he absently began to scroll over the picture when something peculiar caught his eye. Putting his glasses back on, Lucius pulled the picture back into view.

Obviously, the picture had been taken with the sole focus of the bride and groom in mind. Deep in the grainy background were of course, best man, Lionel Luthor—Lucius expected no less. He quickly took note of the bride's name--a Lana Lang, who had been raised and had resided in Smallville her entire life. The caption continued with a lot of nonsense about the designer of the wedding dress and bridal party which included a maid of honor and a few flower girls.

But also in the background was where his attention was focused. He leaned forward and quickly zoomed in on the picture displayed in the paper. Standing just behind the bride, hands clasped in front of her around a delicate bouquet of purple orchids, with a flashy smile as she looked down at her friend.

"Chloe Sullivan," he mumbled over the name. He knew her as C.G. from the _Gotham Gazette_. Bruce knew her by the name displayed before him.

He'd bet the company that Bruce didn't know _this_.

There was a momentary pause as Lucius stared at the photograph. Lucius took a second and leaned back in his chair to slowly take in this new information. Bruce had been so concerned about the blonde being involved with the mob. Neither of them had exchanged notes on the subject. Lucius preferred to stick to the business side of things and waited for Bruce to come to him if he needed assistance. And now it seemed that this young woman was associated, to some degree, with a questionable young businessman. The coincidences were mounting in such a way that they seemed less like coincidences. Exactly how this Miss Chloe Sullivan was associated, either alone or through some other connection, it obviously bore some more looking into.

oOo

The moment she hit the couch, Chloe went into a much needed sleep-induced coma. She hadn't really planned on spending Friday evening on the couch—alone. Yet the second she began surfing channels her lids began to droop, then she felt heaviness in her shoulders pull her down to the soft cushions and was promptly out like a light.

_Muffled voices echoed beyond the pitch dark; voices she didn't recognize right away. Trying to push the panic that was beginning to creep into her body was like trying to stop a freight train barreling down the tracks. _

_Was she blind? _

_She couldn't see her hand in front of her face. She was squinting; searching frantically to discern the semblance of anything tangible. _

_But there was nothing. Her fear began to spread into her mind like a disease eating at her senses._

"_Lucius!" _

_In that instant, she heard the sound of an explosion as she was propelled through the air. _

Chloe jerked awake at the unexpected sound of thunder crack over the building that inadvertently launched her off the couch in surprise and into the floor. Her head still fuzzy with sleep, but her heart was pounding against her chest.

Taking a few calming breaths, Chloe searched through the grogginess until her eyes fell across the clock that sat by her workstation.

Eight o'clock.

She groaned as she rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes. "Ugh, are you kidding me?"

A peculiar ring from her purse caught her attention. A ring she'd not heard in quite a while. With another groan, Chloe finally got up and hurriedly fished her cell from the bottom of her purse, not even bothering to look at the I.D.

"Hey! Long time, no hear," she greeted sarcastically.

"Mind telling me what happened to '_I, Chloe, do solemnly swear to call Clark Kent…_'?" he repeated in like kind. "Chloe! I just heard that there was a bombing in Gotham."

Chloe's gut took a dive. "And?" she tried to sound nonchalant.

"Are you all right?"

Chloe resisted another deep breath. "I'm fine, Clark," she assured, taking great note not to gush overmuch.

"So you weren't involved in any way?" His voice held a hint of accusation. Something was definitely up.

She sighed in defeat. "You're looking at the Gazette's site now, aren't you?" she asked, her eyes clenched shut in futility.

"Chloe! What the hell were you thinking?" he nearly shouted, confirming her fear. Chloe could hear the lecture coming from a mile away. Big brother was just about to give her a good dressing down and she was going to have to sit back and take her medicine like a good girl.

"Look, I'm coming to get you and—"

An unexpected jolt made Chloe ridged with panic. "Clark, no!"

There was nothing but silence from the other end. "Clark?"

Still nothing.

Chloe scoffed in frustration. "Dammit, Clark! Don't do this!"

"Chloe, you aren't safe here anymore," she heard from behind her.

Chloe whirled on him. "I'll never be truly safe anywhere, Clark! I thought you knew that," she half shouted up at him.

His expression of concern was a guilt trip by itself, but Chloe was determined not to allow it to affect her. However, she began to nervously pace back and forth. If she was going to give him a good argument, then she needed all the blood pumping to her brain soon.

"This never would have happened if you'd gone to Star City," he proclaimed with prophetic assurance.

Chloe paused in her pacing to gape at him. "You mean, like_ you_ wanted."

Clark blew his impatience through his lips with a quick roll of the eyes. "Like we _all_ wanted."

"Correction: I meant you and Oliver," she said humdrum with a more pointed look and turned away from him to the kitchen.

Clark's shoulders began to droop. "Chloe, I read that article. You could've been blown all over the city. You can't blame me for being concerned."

Chloe only looked at him.

Clark crossed his arms with a determined look. "--Or having questions, for that matter."

Chloe propped her left hand on the counter by the coffeemaker, leaning heavily. "Okay," she conceded. "Out with it."

"Well, first of all, it sounds as if two lunatics are involved, but more to the point. How did you get involved with them? I would've thought Lex was enough. "

"So call me a lunatic magnet," she quipped with a challenging eyebrow.

"This isn't funny, Chloe!"

"I'm not laughing, Clark," she shot at him.

Clark began shuffling his feet and shifting in agitation. This was going nowhere and it got there awfully fast. "I should've never let you come here," he grumbled without thinking.

"Okay. Clark!" she shouted with a slap to the counter. "Another remark like that and I'm gonna beat you with a kryptonite club!"

Clark merely shot up a bemused eyebrow at that particular threat. She was leaning heavily on both hands now, her face a mixture of desperate aggravation.

"At least hear me out," was all she said.

Clark grasped his arms and took a deep breath. "Alright."

oOo

He'd gone down into the cave. Hoping against hope that he could push his mind into other directions and he'd been successful for the most part. Protocol being first and foremost, Bruce began accessing different cameras all over the city in the areas that he monitored often. Even if all eyes in the city were on one of the biggest crime bosses in town, Gotham was hardly out of the woods.

The local news channels had reported more cases of vandalism. Each frame showed some obscured wall or rusted dumpster with the one word inscribed in spray paint: _Falcone_.

He settled back into his chair, beginning to feel better that he'd had his attention diverted to something else.

The rumor mill had been abuzz that Carmine Falcone was still alive. Bruce knew that some of Falcone's men were more than happy to work for the new boss, Maroni. Others seemed to scatter to the four winds. Some had joined gangs, others committed petty theft, and some seemed to disappear off the face of the planet.

Was there a connection or just random taunts?

Immediately, Bruce began emailing Gordon for information regarding the Five Star gang members arrested at District 12, in addition to other recent arrests. He wanted rap sheets, past criminal history, he wanted the exact time and date of their last piss break.

Of course, the Joker had gone underground after District 12; that much was obvious and it had been expected, but Bruce was certain that he'd resurface soon enough and he needed to be there when that happened.

The fact that the Joker seemed to have developed a particular taste for Chloe was a consideration that unwillingly ran through his mind; his gut twisting in disgust at the thought. Twice he'd found Chloe at his mercy or lack of, as the case most certainly was. And he was certain that third time was probably a charm where that maniac was concerned. Especially now that he was sure that the Joker had figured out that where Chloe was, that Batman was sure to be found.

Just like Rachel.

oOo

"Vigilante justice," Clark remarked, his voice heavy with judgment. Chloe had pulled up all the information she had found on the Batman. "Sounds like he and Oliver would get along like a house on fire."

"Hmm," Chloe hummed. "I hadn't thought about that."

Clark straightened, but continued to stare down at the screen, his arms folded. "It looks as if he's being doing this for quite some time. I'm surprised that someone like that managed to get in under your radar for so long."

"Well, he is a bat," she remarked with blithe sarcasm. No apologies. He walked right into that one.

"Well, it's obvious what you think about him," Clark remarked with an accusatory tone.

Chloe wheeled around in her chair. "Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"C'mon Chloe," Clark chuckled lightly. "_Gotham's hero."_ He made quotations marks in the air.

Without a word, Chloe pushed out of the chair and headed towards the coffeemaker.

All humor aside, Clark ignored what he deemed as her unjust annoyance. "Seriously Chloe, this guy is obviously dangerous," Clark declared. "It says right there that he's responsible for the deaths of several people," he added, pointing at the open windows on the screen.

She was ignoring him. That much was for certain because her furrowed brows said that she was concentrating way too hard to merely drop extra grounds into the filter. "He saved my life…twice," she informed. "You know me, Clark. My conscience won't allow me to demonize him until I get all the facts."

"You don't need to get the facts. We're going to Star City tonight," he informed.

Her head shot up then, her brows drawing closer together. "I'm sorry? The last I checked, I was a big girl with at least a little say in what goes on in my life. Look, I'm sorry if I've let you down, but Clark I told you: This is my life. If I had wanted to simply sit back in a beach chair with no shirt, no shoes, no problems, then I wouldn't be here," she said, emphatically gesturing towards the floor with her hands.

"So, do some preliminary work for Oliver," Clark suggested through tight lips. "I know he'd love it and you could fulfill….whatever it is that you need--fulfilling."

Chloe's shoulders dropped with a sigh, her tone gentler. "Clark, I'm on my own here and believe it or not, it's been a blessing in disguise. Don't get me wrong, working with you, Oliver and all the rest has given me purpose, but you're my friends. I don't have to prove myself to you."

"You don't have to prove anything to anyone," he insisted.

"Yes, I do," she stressed with a smile. "I had to prove something to myself and I've found that here," she declared ardently.

Before Clark could reply, Chloe's cell began to ring.

Looking down at her cell, she completely dismissed the coffee and grabbed her coat and umbrella. "Look, I've got to run."

Clark's face fell in exasperation. "Chloe. It's raining cats and dogs out there!"

She put on her best smile. "When it rains, it pours."

And with that, she hurriedly slammed out of the apartment. Clark stood silent. He should've known he would receive opposition about going to Star City, but nothing this personal. He assumed that it would be as it always was: he'd suggest with feeling, she'd contradict in like kind, but ultimately she would see his side and do it his way.

The idea of picking her up and taking off at light speed did cross his mind, but after her adamant refusals Clark knew that Chloe would never forgive him.

He should've known that it must be important if she left a full pot of coffee standing untouched.

oOo

'_Saved by the bell'_, Chloe thought as she redialed her missed call. At this point, she would've used anything to get out from under Clark's overzealous scrutiny.

"Hey Walt, sorry to put you off, but I had unexpected company." she said as she sloshed down the wet sidewalk towards the subway. She didn't dare take the call in front of Clark. After his overprotective display, she didn't trust him not eavesdrop on her conversation.

"Well, put on your dancing shoes, Hildy because I've got an anonymous tip," he informed with that determined tone, his excitement barely contained.

Chloe stopped in her tracks, attention at full alert. "Really?"

"Try not to sound so surprised," he droned over the phone. "Believe it or not, I still have what it takes."

She loved Walter. "Of course you do," Chloe giggled over the phone. "So, what's the tip?"

"Come to my office a.s.a.p.," he informed.

"Hmm, delicate information. My favorite." Chloe savored the thought, nearly smacking her lips. "I'm on my way."

oOo

_Hopefully more to come in the next day or two. Thanks for reading! _


	26. Chapter 26

_Author's note_: _Teatro Massimo is an actual opera company in Italy. Found them on wikipedia. This is rather short, but it is leading to a much longer and hopefully, more entertaining chapter that I'm still working on. It's so long, in fact, that I might have to bust it up into two parts. So hang in there with me!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, DC comics, so on and so forth._

oOo

The storm that had begun as a few flashes of lightening and rumbles of thunder had built into quite the tempest. The wind had picked up significantly; the rain lashing at anyone that made the unfortunate decision to venture out into the city. The thunder was booming loudly; the lightening streaking across the tops of the skyscrapers as if to cement a warning to stay inside.

_'They'll never understand,_' was all Chloe could think as she sloshed her way down to the _Gazette_. Clark was so worried for her safety. Truth be told, she was a little concerned too. However, she was more concerned for the people she cared about. As long as she was alone, she could hold her own and without the threat of Lex looming over the people she cared for most. Her motivations for leaving Metropolis and Clark's were too different. He thought she should leave to protect herself while she had intended to leave to protect the people around her.

But for now, her talk with Clark would have to wait. Between Clark's impromptu interrogation and Walter's hint at some delicious news, Chloe simply couldn't wait until the storm passed. Then again, if the call had just been the wrong number, she couldn't help wondering if she still wouldn't have braved the storm just to get away.

Even as she arrived at the _Gazette_, Chloe was so distracted that she paid no heed to the darkened newsroom as she weaved in and out of desks towards Walter's enclosed office. The blinds were closed, but it was easy enough to see the small glow of his desk lamp through the veneers.

In her rush, Chloe swung around the open door of Walter's office, literally chomping at the bit; her excitement pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. "Okay Walt—dish."

Not looking up from an open folder, Walter merely replied by pulling a small, yellow post-it note from his shirt pocket and held it out to her.

Note in her hand, Chloe's eyes quickly skimmed over the scrawl. "_The Grand_ at 8:00 p.m. Saturday," she read and looked back at Walter. She shook her head nonsensically. "Okay," she shrugged. "So?"

In a calm manner, Walter simply closed the folder. "Word on the street is that Falcone getting ready to make a bold move," he informed placidly, leaning on folded arms.

Chloe gave the note a bored glance. "I've heard that before," she mumbled. Sasquatch was easier to find than this phantom mobster that she'd been hearing about for the last several weeks. "So does this mean that someone has actually seen him?"

Walter only shrugged. "Don't know. But the tip sounded way too confident and much too coincidental to be a fluke," he nodded to the post-it in her hand and rose to round the corner of his desk.

"Hmm, coincidental being the keyword," she mumbled thoughtfully, but kept drawing a blank. "I don't get it. Sounds like a regular dinner date to me."

Walter inclined his head with a knowing gleam in his eye. "It's not just a dinner date," he proclaimed confidently.

More confused than ever, Chloe's brows furrowed at the mysterious lilt in his tone. "Okay, I'll bite."

"This is a ritual," he informed. "I mean, this—_this_ very thing has been going on since I started at this paper many eons ago."

Chloe couldn't help smiling at his reference to being an overly exaggerated old man, since he was anything but. "Okay," she chuckled, but turned her head in question. "But…I'm not following."

"Picture it," he began. "Many years ago, before and after the depression, Carmine Falcone would pay for _Teatro Massimo,_ an Italian opera company, to come to Gotham's Metropolitan on this particular date to perform _La Boheme_ every year like clockwork."

Chloe's brows rose with consideration at the idea, not just of the extravagance itself, but the thought of going to the trouble. "A little too _Moonstruck_, but whatever floats your boat, I guess."

"No, you don't understand," Walter began to fully gear up for this explanation as he sat back on his desk, spreading out his hands as if to show Chloe the big picture. "Family members, good friends, different factions arrive. Everyone gets the five-star treatment, favors are being granted. I'm talking—it's the famous Christmas truce of WWI crossed with _The Godfather_. Everyone is one big happy mob family.

Chloe's eyes crinkled with mirth. "I feel a _'but'_ coming on."

Walter waved a dramatic finger. "But—there was a lot of double-dealing going on during these particular family shindigs. Someone would mysteriously come into some fabulous opportunity. Toes that were getting stepped on were '_taken to the cleaners'_. Information was being leaked from one family to the next. Vendetta after vendetta would keep the cops going around in circles. I mean, this was when it could get bad and heaven help the poor sap that got caught in the middle."

Having sat down without realizing she'd done so, Chloe was fully engrossed. Mob dealings could always be a curious, yet dangerous fascination and obviously she wasn't the only one that had thought so once upon a time.

With nostalgic zeal, Walter continued his story. "So with the different people moving up and down the ranks and hard feelings being found in the form of dead bodies in the river or the back alleyways of the _Narrows_, there was one thing—one thing that sets it all apart from the rest," he declared and folded his arms across his chest with confidence.

Chloe's eyes shot wide open. "Well? Don't leave me hanging, Walt!" she exclaimed with an excited grin. "What is it?"

"Theater tickets," he proclaimed with a satisfying smile.

Chloe's face bottomed out. "Theater tickets," she reiterated with humdrum skepticism.

Walter didn't seem surprised that her excitement was less than stellar. "Yes! At the Gotham Metropolitan, there are balcony seats and I'm talking the kind of seats that are reserved if the President just so happens to breeze through town and wants to take in a show. Special treatment isn't the term for these seats. You see, whoever gets these seats,"—he tapped the post-it for emphasis—"is the top dog in Gotham City."

"So who gets them?" Chloe finally asked.

"That's up to you to find out," Walter proclaimed and handed her the post-it note. "It's all going to start Saturday night with this dinner date."

Chloe cast a heavy glance to the post-it in her hand which suddenly seemed less and less like a dinner date all the time. "Oh my god, Walt," she breathed, the gravity of such knowledge into the mob underworld finally beginning to sink into her mind. "So I wonder who has initiated the revival of the tradition," she stated more than asked.

Walter could only shrug. "Could be anyone at this point. Gotham P.D. will be left scrambling," Walter informed as he pointed to his scanner. "You can bet that Gordon will be at that opera."

Chloe stared at the note. "Yeah, just to see who the city will be dealing with for the next year," she mumbled.

"No one has seen this in years. No one probably would have if—

"You hadn't gotten that tip," she finished with a note of suspicion.

Walter studied her for a moment with a concerned look. "What are you thinking, kiddo?"

Chloe managed to restrain a snort and gave a single shake of her head. "I don't know where to start," she said as she rose and grabbed her coat. "See, I don't get it," Chloe began. "Why all the cloak and dagger? I thought when mob wars got started they just sniped off the competition or blew up their limos? This is just way too much…trouble…

Walter was grinning in anticipation as he watched the wheels begin to turn. "C'mon Hildy, put it together."

"All the pomp and circumstance, the flash and clout—"

Realization hit and Chloe's head shot up to lock eyes with Walter. "It's not Falcone. It's the Joker."

oOo

She was sitting on the biggest story to hit Gotham in years. Chloe felt the least she could do was do right by Commissioner Gordon and let him in on the secret.

So now here she stood outside Gordon's office, ready and waiting to tell him everything she knew up to this point.

'_Protect and serve—my ass'_, Chloe thought bitterly as she faced off with what seemed to be Commissioner Gordon's personal bulldog in the form of black-rimmed glasses, red lips and hair pulled into a severely tight bun.

"M'am, if this isn't an emergency, I can't let you see Commissioner Gordon without an appointment," the woman said tiredly as if she'd been repeating that same phrase all day.

"But _this is_ an emergency!" Chloe half-shouted with desperation, shaking the post-it note in her hand. "Do you think I sloshed and slugged my way through a torrential downpour for the pure delight of seeing you?"

Little Miss Bulldog gave a great sigh of exasperation that raised and lowered her padded shoulders quite dramatically. "Look, there are several uniforms and detectives to which I can refer you and I'm certain any one of them will be more than happy to take your statement," she informed in a rehearsed tone that would make anyone in human resources proud as peas.

Chloe was about at the end of her rope. "And in the meantime?"

"Commissioner Gordon will receive your statement. I can't tell you when, but only according to its importance and since you have no compelling evidence—

"So in other words, I'm wasting my time?" Chloe interjected.

The woman cocked her head with a patronizing smile. "That's strictly your decision to make," she said with an unapologetic flip of the hands and pursed lips.

Chloe scoffed for what felt like the hundredth time since she'd walked in. Her intent was to go straight to the source, but Gordon's guard dog had gotten in the way once she recognized Chloe from her last interview. There was obviously no love lost here.

"Look, I'm sorry, but you can't come down here with a _tip_"—making quotations in the air—"and expect this department to go scrambling all over itself for nothing more than a post-it note?"

Chloe looked away for a moment and gave a sarcastic shake of her head. Heaven help the next person to use air quotes in front of her. "Okay, seriously," she turned back with eyes wide. "What I'm talking about here is serious of the heart-attack variety. Yes, I can see that you're all broken up about it, but you and I both know that they"—she pointed towards the squad room—" are just as likely to take me as seriously as you are right now."

Not once did the woman lose her condescending attitude and merely shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay, you know what? Fine! I'll find this out on my own and when Gotham has been blown half to hell, the headline the next day will be a big, fat **"I Told You So!"** in bold, black print."

"I'll be waiting," she remarked derisively and went back to pencil pushing.

oOo


	27. Chapter 27

_Author's Note: The champagne Chloe offers Bruce and his date has been labeled as one of the most expensive champagnes in the world. __I have the link if anyone is interested. Also, my inspiration for the hotel is the Atrium at Opry Mills in Nashivlle, also called the Cascades. By the way, this is gonna be a two-parter, I guess. Hopefully, I'll have the second cranked up soon. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Smallvilee, DC, etc._

oOo

Chloe curled her lip at the reflection of the gilded bathroom mirror in the ladies powder room of the _The Grand_ hotel restaurant.

'_Lois would be proud'_, she thought with a sarcastic roll of the eyes. How had she come to this?

Since buying a five hundred dollar dress to pass the restaurant's strict dress code was obviously out of the question, Chloe elected to talk her way into the kitchen by way of posing as the local health inspector. However, a quick call to _The Grand_ and that plan fell flat before it could take off. _The Grand_ had just been inspected and wasn't due for another month.

Instead, Chloe found herself sneaking through the back door only to run into one of the busboys with a hopeful look on his face.

"Please, tell me you're the new girl," he all but pleaded. "It's a madhouse in there and we need all the help we can get."

And before Chloe's brain could properly send her a mental alert, the words "_Yes, I am_," came flying out before she could stop them. Before she knew it, Chloe was ushered in the backdoor and straight to the manager's office.

A simple quick up and down, a few questions regarding credentials and Chloe was given a "uniform" and sent on her way with strict instructions to find the maitre'd for protocol and responsibilities.

So here she stood, staring at the knee length satiny black and white number that hugged close to her body. Granted it was classy, Chloe thought and ran her hands down her sides. She was at least willing to admit to herself that even she was a bit distracted by such extravagance. Sadly enough, this was the nicest dress that she'd worn in a while.

And on that particular thought, Chloe was drawn back to the situation in which she'd just landed. She was trying to mentally prepare herself for what lie in wait. This wasn't anything like waiting tables at the local _T.G.I. Friday_. That was the _crème de le crème_ of Gotham's society out there. However, if all she had to do was balance a few champagne flutes and keep up with the orders…it might just be worth it if she could slink her way into the private dining room of the restaurant where, most likely, the highest ranking members of the local mob community would be ensconced.

How hard could it be?

oOo

"Back straight. No, no, no. Too stiff. You don't have a broom handle up your back. Stand… tall."

'_Was this guy serious?' _This maitre'd was beginning to give anal retentive a whole new meaning. He yanked her shoulders back while pushing at the small of her back to achieve the affect that he wanted.

"Okay," he hummed as he walked around her continuing his inspection. "Now eyes forward. Remember, you could be looking into the eyes of a senator and he needs to know that you're professional, courteous…confident."

Chloe only nodded while mentally gagging on the inside. The idea of licking the backsides of the elite was not something she could stomach easily. However, at this point, she was ready to do anything to get the information she was looking for.

"Uniform is in order," he appraised with approval. "And don't forget to smile!"

Chloe nodded in affirmation.

"No, no, no," he said, shaking his head in exasperation. "Smile!" he repeated more loudly, spreading his fingers in front of his face.

Chloe quickly flashed a dazzling smile that hurt her face.

"You'll be alternating with one other girl in the private dining room, in addition to the balcony overlooking the _Cascades_," he informed as he brushed at her shoulders and down her back. "There are important people out there and this restaurant has a reputation to uphold."

"I'll do my best," she replied.

At that he stopped in front of her, eyebrows raised with his sight straight down his own nose. "Understand. Your best isn't good enough. I want more."

"Yes sir," was all Chloe would allow herself to say. What she wanted to say was that he could take his uppity expectations and shove 'em up his narrow ass. Seriously, this was society…not a military coup. However, she could see the parallel between the two, but instead of an Ak-47 assault rifle that would be more appropriate, her weapons were her smile and ability to schmooze with the fakest of the fake.

He handed her a tray of champagne flutes. "Now, you take this." He couldn't sound more patronizing if he was talking to a three year old. "And remember…smile."

And with that, he gave a shove to the small of her back in the direction of the dining room.

oOo

The roar of rushing water intermingling with the bubbling trickle of a stream echoed into the corridor between the main dining room and _The Cascades_. The curious sound of birds singing and fluttering threw Chloe into utter confusion. Her steps hesitated as she approached the direction she'd been instructed. She was certain that she'd taken a wrong turn.

But nothing prepared her for the open-mouthed amazement that hit her as soon as she emerged into what _The Grand_ called _The Cascades_ dining room.

Chloe stepped out of the dark corridor and into the largest Atrium she'd ever seen. There were actual old growth trees that stretched all the way to the solar paneled glass that made up the ceiling. Cobblestone pathways wound in and out of dense green foliage and along a lazy river that ran the edge of the atrium. Stone sculptures allowed waterfalls to flow into well-designed streams that sparkled and delighted the guests with dancing water fountains.

In the middle of this veritable Garden of Eden was a Greek-column gazebo with shining marble flooring where couples danced intimately to the performances of a classical string quartet. Chloe's soared along stringed lights that were decorated throughout the trees and strung strategically around the dance floor, as well as the various designated dining areas.

To say that the place was extravagantly beautiful was a masterpiece of understatement. Gotham was beginning to never fail to surprise her with unexpected beauty to combat its dark reputation.

But her shock and awe was quickly taken over by the sight of a rather tall server with glossy dark hair rushing fast towards her.

"Please tell me that you're my relief," she said with a sigh of hope.

Chloe gave a quick two fingered salute. "Reporting for duty, uh…"

"Betsy," the girl supplied quickly. "Your job for tonight is to pick up the slack. For now, just make sure to keep the booze flowing into the private dining room. In the meantime, I'll be waiting for the arrival of His Eminence's _"special delivery_" a.k.a. illegal Cuban cigars," she said the last through her lips. "Also, there are a couple of new tables on the balcony and that should be all you'll need to take care of for tonight."

Chloe nodded. "Doesn't sound too hard."

The girl simply shot Chloe a peculiar look of cynicism. It must be worse than she thought.

Betsy leaned in very close. "Take my advice, if you decide to flirt a little, be mindful of stray hands. Trust me; they treat this place like it's their own private gentleman's club."

Chloe pretended to be completely ignorant. "Who's in there?"

She leaned closer, lowering her voice to a near whisper. "Look, I'm not going to lie to you. This was sprung on us at the last minute--like always. And there are certain" –she cleared her throat—"people in this town that don't quite adhere to the laws of the land if you get my drift and they don't care to flounce around town despite that fact."

Chloe nodded once more. "Ahhh, I got ya," she said, pretending to understand.

"I'm sorry you got stuck with this as your first, but none of the other girls would even consider going near that room and trust me, they'd make a killing if they did. That's how bad it can get," she added.

Chloe was starting to have second thoughts.

"Oh, and another thing. Stand tall and—

"Smile," Chloe finished deadpan and watched helplessly as the girl continued to rush out of the _Cascade Atrium _and disappear down the dark corridor.

With a girding sigh, Chloe smoothed her dress and took a deep, determined breath. "Here goes nothing."

oOo

Chloe entered the gilded private dining room. It was just as extravagant as the rest of the place with its plush furnishings and a lush oasis amidst the neoclassic theme with flowers bedecked throughout the entire room. The smoke that had been allowed to fill the room was enough to make Chloe gag out loud. Reminded of her own botany classes, she felt sorry for the plant life. Sure, they filtered the air, but they couldn't take this sort of abuse.

Through the hazy smoke, Chloe heard throaty chuckles. "We got us a new girl boss!" she heard one crony announce eagerly as if he just received a new toy.

"Hmm, this one's a blond…

"What can I say gentleman, I like my women like I like my dinner: a little variety in every bite," Maroni drawled into the ear of some young chippy which elicited some very feminine giggles.

Chloe set an extra bottle of champagne at Maroni's table. It was the first time she'd ever truly seen the man in person and yet despite the grainy surveillance photos, he was exactly as she'd pictured he'd be: Kicked back with a woman under each arm, a drink in one hand and cigar in the other.

He crinkled his eyes with a light of inquiry. "Say, don't I know you?" he asked as he examined Chloe from his very comfortable position.

Chloe did her best to maintain absolute ignorance. "No sir, this is my first day," she replied. It wasn't a complete lie, but it didn't stop her from trying to obscure her face just in the off chance that he might put 2 and 2 together and figure out that she was the one that blew Van Zant's position in Maroni's business wide open.

Maroni didn't look entirely convinced as he continued to eye her in a peculiar manner. "No, I'm pretty sure we've met somewhere before," he drawled with insistence. "You work somewhere else in this town?"

_Now_ she was getting nervous because her leg was starting to bounce. Quickly, she placed her knees together with her hands on her hips in a pose that could easily be mistaken for a Betty Grable pin-up poster.

"No sir," she said, trying to make her face spread into a flirtatious smile. "Just a new girl in town, sir."

Maroni simply gestured to the empty champagne flutes that littered the table. "Then I'm sure you won't mind…"

"Not at all, sir." And with that, Chloe bent to gather the empty glasses and replace with them with ones already filled. Yet the sudden, peculiar feel of a hand on her backside caught her attention. With a cocky grin and as smooth as possible, Chloe turned and popped the offending hand with her ticket book. "Ow!" was the satisfying response.

Chloe turned slightly to see a weasel of a man gingerly shaking his hand. "This is the only merchandise that you don't get to sample," she informed lightly."And just in case you need reminding: you break it, you bought it."

Maroni laughed at the scene and relaxed. "Hey Betsy," he called, causing Chloe's head to turn and to her blessed relief, saw Betsy coming back with a trail of busboys carrying what could only be the illegal cargo. "I like this new girl," he informed with a sly grin. "Keep her coming around."

Chloe met Betsy quickly and leaned inconspicuously to her ear. "Just in time," Chloe muttered with a smile to keep up appearances.

"You're welcome," was all Betsy with happy inflection in her tone. "Have you checked the tables on the balcony?"

"Holy crap," Chloe replied in like kind. She completely forgot that she had other obligations.

"You need to do that."

"Right away." She affirmed and quickly headed to the balcony tables.

oOo

'_Geez,'_ Chloe thought with a groan and lightly touched her fingers to her temples. She was going to blow her own cover if she didn't take special care of the role she had assumed.

Trying to keep her nerves settled, Chloe kept telling herself that she was simply going to try to hurry up with the tables on the balcony and get back to sleuthing. After all, these were the type of people that wanted what they wanted and right now. Beyond that, they didn't care to see you.

'_So, hurry up and take care of these people and then back to business,'_ she thought as she climbed the wrought iron staircase that led to the balcony.

The soft glow candles and stringed lights gave the balcony a romantic ambience that seemed very relaxing. The maitre 'd had shown her that her tables would be against the glass balcony and decided to hit the first one she saw; a couple that looked like they were here for a romantic dinner for two.

Seemed easy enough.

"I'm sorry for your wait, but we're unexpectedly short-handed this evening," Chloe began as she approached, not realizing who sat there until she heard his voice.

"Look, I realize good service is hard to come by, but do I have to own every restaurant in Gotham just to…

The second he laid eyes on her, Bruce lost the words coming out of his mouth.

The first thing that ran through is mind was the last time he'd seen her. In quick flashes, he saw their sparring match, the moment he kissed her and watching her scrambling away. Truth be told, he'd thought of little else. For only a breath of a moment, the two simply stared at one another in stunned silence.

It was when Chloe cut her eyes to the manicured woman across from him that Bruce watched her expression change from stunned surprise to casual cynicism.

Putting on a fabulous mask of nonchalance, Chloe smiled brightly at him. "I don't know, Mr. Wayne," she replied cheerfully. "What kind of incentive do you give your employees?"

Bruce ignored her continuing implications that he was Gotham's resident gigolo. Skepticism lifted his brows with question. "Oh, so you're working_ here_ now?" he asked with a downward point of his finger.

"Times are hard, Mr. Wayne," Chloe replied smoothly. "A girl's got to work hard to make it on her own."

Bruce leaned back in his chair, casually throwing his arm over the back. "Oh absolutely," he matched her blithe tone. "So how exactly does this job correlate with your current profession?"

Chloe's eyes squinted at his accusation. "Just what are you insinuating Mr. Wayne?" she asked, practically daring him to out her here in front of everyone.

Before Bruce could reply, Chloe noticed that he was suddenly distracted as even _she_ heard the kick from under the table.

Instantly, both turned their eyes to the very beautiful, very agitated woman that they both had been ignoring from across intimate table.

Chloe stiffened at the sight of the very dark beauty draped in elegant black velvet and dripped diamonds; her haughty expression meant to inform that _she_ was the center of attention.

"Pardon me," Bruce apologized with a pained smile. "This is Madison Whitfield…

Chloe cocked an eyebrow. "Of the Whitfield, Coleman & Smith law firm uptown? Quite a popular firm," she stated.

This particular woman ignored the question, but shot Chloe a smile so full of venom that she felt that she may have to use her menu as a spit guard should the woman decide to spew poison at her. "Um, yes…we've been waiting for more than a half an hour. And just so you know, I didn't come here to gape at the scenery or to watch you flirt shamelessly with my date."

That sent Chloe's brows to her hairline. "I wasn't…" Chloe began, but trailed off when she noticed that Bruce had a rather cocky quirk in his grin. Chloe wanted to so badly to bludgeon him with the bottle of champagne in her hand, but thought better of it.

"So if you don't mind to do your _job_," the woman emphasized as if she were addressing a jury. "We would like to see some semblance of service that a five-star restaurant should employ or I'll make sure that I have your second-rate position before the end of the evening and you can only hope to find a job scrubbing toilets for the public at large."

Chloe only stared for a beat, unblinking with absolutely no expression as she looked at the woman. Suddenly, it didn't matter who she was or could be. "You know, you are absolutely right, Miss Whitfield," she said with a great apology.

Bruce's smiled dropped straight off his face.

Chloe dramatically placed her hand against her chest. "A thousand pardons, Miss Whitfield. I certainly didn't mean to shirk my duties," Chloe emphasized and brought around a bottle of champagne, displaying it nicely before them. "Now this is amazing French champagne; very select. It is a Pernod-Ricard Perrier-Jouet. I was told that there are only a few hundred of these around the world and will simply dazzle your drinking experience with just the right amount of liqueur in each bottle. So if you don't mind I will just…

Chloe then proceeded to attempt to try to open the bottle of champagne; gingerly wiggling the cork back and forth to pry it loose with no success. "Tricky little suckers aren't they?" she said with a troubled smile. "Maybe if I use the corkscrew?"

"Yes, that would be an oddity," the woman quipped snidely.

Chloe noticed immediately that she hadn't been provided the easier corkscrew, but rather the simpler, old-fashion version. While it was easy enough to get into the cork, getting it back out was something altogether different. So Chloe was inadvertently shaking the bottle as she kept trying to pull the cork out.

Bruce began to rise out of his chair. "You know, maybe I should get that," he offered.

Miss Whitfield tapped the table in aggravation. "Absolutely not! You shouldn't do her job for her."

"Okay, I think I've got it!" Chloe announced and yanked the cork out.

The scream of outrage that echoed throughout the entire_ Cascade_ dining room caught everyone's attention as an explosive waterfall of champagne sprayed all over Bruce's date.

"Oh my god!" Chloe cried out, unable to hide her smile. "I'm so sorry!" she gushed in mock apology and proceeded to try to sop up the liquid with a sodden napkin, making the mess worse.

The woman leapt quickly out of her chair. "You…you…imbecile! You moron!" she cried, slinging champagne from her fingers. "This is a Versace! This is a five thousand dollar dress! I'll have your head on a plate for this!!"

Chloe pretended to be stunned. "Before you do that," she began and innocently held the cork out to the woman. "It's my understanding you should sniff the cork before you drink the champagne."

It was in that moment that Madison Whitfield raised her hands into claws and lunged at Chloe with a shriek.

Bruce was forced to leap in between the two women in order to contain the situation which went from bad to worse the moment flashbulbs began to go off.

And with that, Chloe turned on her heel and walked away, a very satisfied smile on her face while the sound of some patron's laughter was music to her ears.

oOo

Bruce never truly knew the definition of mortification, but this evening was damn close. He had learned that Maroni was here for the beginning of his annual ritual and that now was the time for some onsite reconnaissance. It was perfectly planned out and quite simple. He would pick a name from his black book for an inconspicuous date at _The Grand_ while setting up surveillance for Maroni. It was all going so smoothly.

He certainly hadn't counted on _her_ being here and containing a veritable catfight was not on his to-do list.

How had she found out?

Now all he could do was flip furiously through his memories trying to figure out why Karma was trying so hard to sink her teeth into his backside.

"I want her job, Bruce. As a matter of fact, I want this entire hotel!" his date screeched, which compounded more humiliation onto the scene. So much for any semblance of quiet discretion to be had this evening.

In an attempt to display some major damage control, Bruce merely played to her vanity with a killer smile and smooth talk. "Now, that won't be necessary. Look, why don't you go get cleaned up. There's a Saks boutique in the hotel and you may charge whatever you like to my account. I noticed a beautiful De La Renta that is just waiting for the right woman to make it or break it."

He pulled her close, placing his lips to her ear. "And maybe then we can take this party to more private location, hmmm…?"

Bruce could barely manage to contain his displeasure when she practically purred with satisfaction. "Well, in that case, I'll be right back," she hummed low and quickly slipped away.

Bruce waited until she was out of sight and went in search for his champagne-wielding desperado.

oOo

"Ah, there's my help!" Betsy announced a little too happily as Chloe walked into the private dining room with more champagne and a few bottles of select cognac.

Chloe put a flirtatious quirk in her smile as she approached Maroni's table. He returned her smile with a cocky one of his own. "I swear, I know you from somewhere," his drawl becoming a slur, a quick indication that he'd been enjoying the booze for some time. A few more drinks and he'd be slurring all over the place.

Chloe took a deep breath and slid her hands along her waist to rest on her hips and sauntered up to him. She purposely bent low to the table. "Maybe I just remind you of the girl that got away," Chloe said low as she set the decanter before him.

Maroni only chuckled as he reached for the bottle and poured two shots. "Then how about a drink?" he suggested with a smile. "A drink… to the one that got away," he added, handing Chloe one of the glasses.

For a moment she only stared at the brown liquid. Hard liquor wasn't something for which she'd developed much of a taste. She quickly cut her eyes to Betsy for her cue, hoping that she wouldn't have to drink the stuff.

No dice though. Betsy simply flashed an encouraging smile.

Chloe raised her glass. "To the one that got away," she cheered and turned up the glass, the burn of the alcohol reaching her nostrils before hitting her throat.

"Hey blondie!"

Chloe turned to see one of Maroni's fat cronies sprawled out in a plush chair. He patted his leg in invitation and Chloe felt her stomach churn. "I gotta place for you right over here," he chuckled. "Trust me! I won't let you get away."

Chloe felt her anxiety shoot up her spine and back down to her stomach. The last thing on earth that she wanted to do was go sit on that man's lap.

"Shut up, Angelo," Maroni half-shouted as he shook the girls off his arms. He stood up and rounded the table, taking Chloe by the hand. "This is a lady," he informed and turned sparkling eyes toward her. "And she's all mine."


	28. Chapter 28

_**Author's Note:**__ You have no idea how many times I have re-written this chapter and I still don't find satisfactory. So, if you fall through a few plot holes…just give me a yell and I'll come get ya out. I hope it isn't too disappointing. _

_By the way, I wasn't aware that cognac wasn't really a form of liquor, but rather is derived from wine. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, DC comics…..or Sonny Corinthos from General Hospital….I just borrowed him for a minute._

oOo

_A decanter of cognac later…_

"So tell me, what's a classy lady like you doing in a joint like this?" Maroni joked lightly as he grasped Chloe's hand and pressed a kiss on the back.

Chloe could only stare at her hand clasped within his. A moment ago, the knowledge that one of the biggest mob kingpins was intent on flirting with her would've sent some very unpleasant shivers down her spine, but now Chloe was hardly able to keep the room in focus much less be concerned about the company she was currently keeping. "Just lucky, I guess," she replied with a smile, hoping in the back of her mind that she didn't look as tipsy as she felt.

"And what about yourself?" she asked, mentally making herself appear nonchalant by leaning comfortably into her hip. "What brings you here? Business or pleasure?"

He turned back to the table and somehow managed to find flutes of champagne. "It's always a pleasure to do business," he said handing her a glass and held up his own in salute. "To the pleasure of business."

Chloe hazarded a hesitant glance at the new glass of alcohol in her hand. Her penchant for drinking was sparse at best. But one look at the glint in Maroni's eye and she knew she couldn't afford to refuse. Whatever information she needed was going to come from this man and she hoped against fervent hope not to pass out before then.

"Hey boss, we got the phone call yet?" called one of his goons.

The moment he turned his head, Chloe quickly threw the champagne into a nearby plant.

Chloe held a sharp eye as possible on the exchange. She arched a curious brow. "Are you expecting important news?"

Maroni turned back and eyed the sudden empty flute. With a smile to Chloe, he took the glass and replaced it with another. "We're bidding on a silent auction," he replied in a hushed tone.

"Oh, I see. Well, best of luck," she said.

"Oh, it hasn't got anything to do with luck. Does it Sonny?" he called over his shoulder in a taunting fashion.

Chloe followed the remark to a very dark gentleman in a white Italian suit as he cut black eyes in Maroni's direction with a squint and turned his attention back to a couple of ladies.

Maroni gave a great chuckle gave a quick glance down at his Rolex. "Bidding ends at midnight. Shouldn't be too much longer."

Chloe had carefully eyed the exchange between the two men. "You seem pretty confident," Chloe observed.

"Shall we call it-luck?" Maroni proposed with his unfinished glass.

Chloe's stomach did a nauseous flip and she gave him as a gracious smile as she could muster. "Absolutely," she replied. "To luck."

Her glass was hardly empty, but Maroni was already refilling the etched flute in her hand. "So tell me more about his woman you let slip through your fingers," Chloe prompted casually and forced yet another sip of champagne down her throat.

At that, Maroni cast his eyes away for a beat before he replied. "She didn't care much for business. She was always sticking her nose where it didn't belong. Couldn't handle the politics of it, I guess."

Chloe's heart nearly stopped beating, but refused to let it show by simply raising her brows with mild curiosity. So much for trying to wade into a safe conversation. "So where is she now?"

Maroni still wouldn't look her in the eye. "I don't know," he shook his head, taking a quick sip of his own. "A better place, I imagine. "

That sent an unpleasant consideration tripping down her spine as she put the glass to her lips once more, not realizing right away that the room was beginning to move… or was she the one that was moving?

Chloe tried focusing on a picture across the room only to find that it was moving from side-to-side. Instantly, she feared making a great fool of herself by slurring or swaying in her stilettos. Thankfully, Maroni's attention was caught by the sound of his cell and he quickly excused himself.

Before she could release the unsteady sigh of relief that had been building for some time, Chloe felt a hand on her arm and turned quickly to find Betsy's face weaving back in forth out of focus. "Can you still walk?" she whispered. A reference to the booze Maroni had been force-feeding her.

Chloe actually had to think for a minute. A fog had already begun to settle over her mind and she was concentrating on Maroni's form as he paced back and forth across the room. If this was it…

"You really shouldn't be pushing this," Betsy warned. "Clearly he has his eye on you for the moment and unless you're into that sort of thing—

"No!" Chloe whispered roughly. "Of course not. I just—wait—what time is it?"

"It's twenty minutes 'til midnight," Betsy replied quickly.

Chloe watched Maroni for what seemed an interminable amount of time until he finally clipped his phone shut and gave a great shrug his shoulders. He was talking to a subordinate, but couldn't hear what he was saying. All signs seemed to point the fact that it hadn't been "the call" since midnight had yet to arrive.

Trying to sort through her muddled mind, Chloe was thinking quite hard on what she should do next. "I think that I could better handle things after a trip to the ladies' room," she said, finally answering Betsy.

"Okay," Betsy nodded. "Why don't you grab a cup of coffee on your way back too? If anyone says anything to you, just tell them to talk to me, okay?"

Chloe gave Betsy an incredibly grateful look. "Thank you."

Despite the fact that the entryway seemed intent on dodging her, Chloe managed her way out of the Private Dining room wondering if she should just make a break for it. She was beginning to think that Maroni's flirtations weren't worth whatever she might learn or stick it out without the knowledge of how much further Maroni wanted to pursue his game; a game she wasn't sure she still wanted to play.

The long corridor seemed to be getting even longer and Chloe could feel her body beginning to grow tired. She wondered just how much longer she was going to make it before she did indeed pass out. Finding an alcove close by, Chloe leaned heavily against the wall and placed a bracing hand on her head with the hopes that the constant wooziness would pass.

"Drinking on the job?"

Her head lurched up and all Chloe could see was the face of Bruce Wayne spinning with the rest of the room.

Chloe squinted hard, suddenly overwhelmed with aggravation at his tone. "Excuse me?" she tried to sound incredulous. "Who are you to…lecture me… about what I do on the job?"

Did she just hiccup?

She tried in vain to shake the fog from her head, but simply couldn't bring his face…or her thoughts into proper focus. "Which job are we talking about anyway?"

Bruce watched as her eyes danced erratically under hooded lids and he realized that now was no time to tease her; however badly he may have wanted to. Audio surveillance had become difficult while trying to deal with an unreasonable and very loud date, in addition to running into various acquaintances and entertaining them with pointless small talk while he searched her out. Judging by her state, she'd gotten in way over head.

He bent to take her elbow as he began to guide her to a lounge chair. "Okay, obviously you need to sit down, get a cup of coffee—

She shoved at him rather clumsily. "Don't you tell me what I need! Why don't _you_ go on back to Miss…whatever-the-hell-her name-is…because I'm quite sure you know exactly…

Bruce was left hanging as Chloe paused; her glassy eyes instantly becoming vacant.

He had managed to find a common area behind some Boxwood shrubbery where he could surreptitiously watch and listen while appearing to be reading the local stock reports.

In a room full of mobsters was where he should've known that he'd find her. Watching and listening, Bruce wondered just how long she was going to be able to keep up her clumsy attempt to learn information by trying to drink Maroni under the table, which clearly wasn't something she was at all accustomed to doing. Nor did she seem to realize her flirtatious manner was dangerously close to landing her in a situation that he knew she couldn't handle. There was no telling just how drunken Ms. Chloe Sullivan had become.

Suddenly she cut her eyes back to him. "You know, you should be thanking me," she slurred with a superior look in her eyes and a wavering point of her finger. "I probably got that girl out of her dress faster than you or any other man in this town."

"I'll be sure to keep that under consideration," he quipped quickly.

Bruce simply looked at her. Suddenly, she looked as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Her entire manner had changed from cynical to overwhelmed in one deep breath. "Look, you need to get out of here and I need to get back," she sighed as she turned away from him.

Bruce quickly placed a halting hand on her shoulder. "I'm not leaving you here alone," he stated.

Chloe shrugged his hand away and whirled on him. "Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are? You're nothing to me! And- I-I-I'm nothing to you," she finished, her sudden tirade becoming a half-hearted statement. Even in her drunken state she was well aware that her work was becoming dangerous and she didn't want him involved. "Look, you just need…to go."

Bruce completely dismissed her outburst. His eyes began darting around to make certain they were still alone with the alcove with the hallway. "You know, I like jealousy just as much as the next guy, but in the meantime, I think—

"—I need to sit down," Chloe finished, weaving unsteadily on her feet with her mind still a flurry of uncontrolled chaos.

"No!" Chloe quickly shouted in protest when Bruce grabbed her arm. "What time is it? Quick! Quick! What time is it?"

Bruce was becoming very worried at her erratic behavior. Despite his instincts, he quickly glanced to his watch. "It's five minutes 'til."

"I've got to go!" she half-shouted and shoved away from the wall and immediately lost her balance. "I'm gonna miss it!"

Bruce had to scramble to catch her before she nearly ate it up right there in the hallway. "You barely _missed_ the floor," he ground out as he helped to right herself.

Chloe shrugged away from him, weakly slapping at his hands. "Go find your un-dressed date," she quickly shot at him. "I'm sure she's waiting with bated breath."

And with that, Chloe stalked—or rather—staggered back towards the Private Dining Room at a dangerously hurried pace.

Go find his date? Like hell.

oOo

A grandfather clock chimed almost as if it were announcing New Year's a few months too early. As Chloe rounded the corner to entrance of the Private Dining Room it looked as if New Year's had, in fact, come early—at least for one man.

Music was playing, champagne was spraying and a very, very happy Salvatore Maroni was smiling with a fat cigar sticking out of his mouth. He was shouting for drinks and slapping his cohorts on their shoulders while others approached with their half-hearted smiles of congratulations.

Obviously, he'd won the "silent auction". Somehow, she wasn't surprised.

According to tradition, he would be the one that sat in the balcony on the night at the opera. He'd also been unofficially crowned king of the mob in Gotham.

But to what end? What did that mean for the city now?

Just when she was about to go inside, she felt a steel grip about her arm.

Chloe jerked her head to find Bruce's dark eyes bearing down into her own with warning. "You can't go back in there."

Chloe scrunched her brows together and tugged at her arm, but he refused to let go. "What the hell are you doing?" she whispered in outrage as she tried to scan the fuzzy mess of people that could be watching them. "You can't be seen with me right now. It's too—

In that instant, all words were stopped as Chloe watched Stephen Van Zandt, the former (position) appear suddenly from the other side of the room only to approach Maroni, his hand extended in congratulations. Chloe was about to step away when Van Zandt's gaze caught her and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Uh oh," she gasped.

It wasn't enough that Van Zandt had spotted her, but she knew that he must've seen Bruce as well. Oh, she quickly imagined how the entire scene was playing out.

Bruce Wayne, wealthy patron of Gotham City appeared to be engaging intimately with the reporter of the Gotham Gazette that had just crashed a mob party in the guise of a waitress; the very reporter that highlighted Van Zandt's position in the Maroni crime family that effectively had gotten him fired while humiliating him in front of the entire city. No else really knew that except Van Zandt.

Until now.

Nope. It wasn't looking good at all.

She had to fix this and fix it quick. She might be in the soup, but she didn't have to drag Bruce under as well.

Quickly, she whirled herself into his arms, effectively taking him by surprise. "I'm sorry," was all she said as she grabbed him by his lapel and jerked him into a hard kiss.

Just as quickly as she had grabbed him, she shoved him away. "Agh! Pervert!" she shouted and soundly slapped him across the face.

Chloe didn't even turn to see if anyone had saw what she'd done, but turned on her heel and walked away leaving a stunned Bruce in her wake.

oOo

Bruce was on the hunt again. Once the stars had faded, he was quickly on her the trail that she blazed after kissing and then clobbering him out of the blue.

She had disappeared before he recovered, but he had a decent idea which way she was headed. He'd seen Van Zandt as well and by his guess, Chloe was going to vacate the premises via the nearest exit.

His suspicions were confirmed as the echo of a very large door slammed up the hallway. Heading in that general direction, Bruce strode with purpose as he fully intended to berate and chastise her for her foolishness.

Bruce quickly burst through the door, one finger raised in the air. "Okay, I'm starting to believe what my father said all those years ago-

Bruce paused mid-sentence and never finished.

Chloe was leaning heavily against the railing of the stairwell; her legs were buckling and her head lolling.

Instantly he pulled her up only to find that she was barely coherent. Her eyes were nearly closed; her body nearly giving out as she sagged against him.

"I—th—think …I—think—

That was all she could get out before collapsing into a heap in his arms.

"Alfred?"

"Yes, sir?" came the voice over his ear piece.

"It seems we'll be having a guest tonight."

Bruce could practically hear Alfred's smile. "I'll bring the car around, sir."

oOo

Author's Note: Okay folks, I'm back to that flying by the seat of my pants again. I'm sure you hadn't noticed ;-)

So if you've got some constructive criticism to send my way, I will certainly welcome it.


	29. Chapter 29

_**Author's Note:** Wow, it's been a few months, hasn't it? Sorry, 'bout that. Ready for the morning after? It's not much for now, but more to come. I'm trying to a do a little more focus on Bruce and Chloe rather than leaping right back into the mayhem...but rest assured, mayhem will resume momentarily. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own DC Comics, Smallville, affiliates, and so forth._

oOo

…'_and it's a beautiful Sunday morning here in Gotham. The forecast for today is sunshine with a slight chance of rain in the afternoon. Current temperature is forty-five degrees with a high in the mid-to-lower fifties. Tonight in the low forties and perhaps dipping into those high thirties. And remember, if you're looking for a night at the opera, tickets are on sale at the box office at the Gotham theater. I'm WGCM's meteorologist, Dave Pascal'. _

Chloe could hear the faraway sound pricking at her conscious, prodding her to wake up. Her eyes felt extremely heavy and she couldn't quite make herself open them just yet. She must've slept like the very dead for she didn't dream at all. It was if her sub-conscious had hit an immense wall and fell flat.

As a matter of fact, her memories of last night were a blur at best. The very dry feeling in her mouth reminded her that she'd definitely had too much to drink.

Too much to drink!

Chloe's eyes shot open and she lurched from the bed as images of last night came flashing randomly back into her mind.

She was just about to leap out of bed only to find her feet dangling nearly a foot from where a very nice oriental rug lay on the floor beneath her instead of the bare wood floor her feet were used to hitting in the morning.

Taking a moment, to look around she didn't need to be hit with an epiphany as she gaped at the unfamiliar surroundings. "Well, this obviously isn't my room," she remarked out loud as she looked around the room.

Her eyes squinted at the two windows nearly floor-to-ceiling that bathed the entire room in the bright morning sunlight. Her gaze fell to the thick, velvet comforter piled on top of silken sheets that she held clutched in her hand and onto the black satin sleeve at her wrist. She absently plastered a hand against her chest to find herself fully clothed in set of black silk pajamas trimmed in gold embroider. Clearly not at all like the dress she remembered wearing last night.

"Ah, good morning, miss."

Chloe jumped at the sound, her head jerking in the direction of the open doorway.

"Oh, forgive me, I didn't mean to startle you. I trust you slept well?"

Chloe looked up to see the familiar older gentleman from the gala when she'd first arrived in Gotham and once again at the dojo several nights ago. He was smiling warmly in a very welcoming sort of way.

"May I get you anything?"

"Um, no-thank you" she mumbled absently as she continued to survey the room with a rather perplexed expression. "How did I even get here?"

"Oh, well, you see," Alfred began. "Last night, I fear that you were bit worse for wear…

Chloe's brows scrunched harder in confusion at Alfred's explanation, making him falter a bit.

"Forgive me, that wasn't quite what I meant. What I mean to say is that you were hardly in any condition…

"It's all right, Alfred," Bruce said, suddenly appearing around the doorway. With a quick pat to the butler's shoulder Bruce brushed past him and strode into the bedroom. "I believe I can take it from here."

"Very good, sir," Alfred said quickly and turned away to leave, but not before heaving a discretionary sigh of relief.

Chloe's eyes leveled with dread as her gaze followed him through the room. "Oh god, it's worse than I thought," she mumbled.

Her dread put a quirk in his cheek. "Good morning to you too."

Chloe placed a bracing hand on her forehead. "Oh god,_ please_ tell me that I—that we—we didn't…" Chloe stuttered, not so much terrified of the prospect, but of the ramifications.

Bruce nearly laughed out loud at the abject alarm in her voice. He settled across the room, leaning against a rather large mahogany secretary and grinned. "Hmm, such flattery."

"Wait a minute!" she blurted suddenly. "You had a date last night," she recalled, her eyes moving as she searched the broken pieces of her memory; a fleeting sense of satisfaction tickled her when she remembered spraying that woman with champagne.

"Yes," he drawled with a simple nod of his head.

"Oh my…did you…?"

Chloe leapt from the bed and began to pace back and forth in short steps, while absently chewing at her thumb. This began to cause Bruce some concern as to what sort of mayhem she planned on causing this morning by simply thinking. He honestly had never met any other woman that had caused him more consternation, yet intrigued him at the same time.

Her head swiveled in his direction, eyes wide. "Did you bring her back here too?" she shot at him, aghast.

Before Bruce could even process such a notion, she had begun to charge out of the room.

He quickly stepped in front of her, his hands braced against her shoulders. "Look, I'm not quite the bed-hopping Don Juan you take me for," he stated calmly. "If I remember correctly, _you_ kissed _me _last night."

Chloe only stared up at him; her face fell to no expression. "Yes, it's all coming back to me now," she replied deadpan.

Bruce sighed and dropped his hands from her shoulders. "Look, the fact is- you were in a very precarious position whether you realized it or not. But as it happens, my only intention was to make sure were kept safe. So I brought you back here,"—he gestured to the room—"and returned to my quarters—_alone_," he said the last with pointed look.

Chloe looked away thoughtfully. Much as it galled her to admit, he was right. She had been playing a very dangerous game of cat and mouse last night. If she'd been anywhere else…if he had been anyone else….if she'd been left alone much longer with Mr. Salvatore Maroni…

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne," she said suddenly, taking him by surprise and much to her own. Calmed by reason, Chloe's tone softened with thankful realization. "I guess it's easy to jump to conclusions and I apologize. You're absolutely right; I was in a shaky situation last night," she added and the words didn't seem to taste quite as bad as she thought they might. "So I guess that makes you something of a knight in shining armor."

Bruce gave a casual shrug shoulders.

Chloe turned to go back into the bedroom, but stopped and did an abrupt about face. She had a skeptical grin on her face. "So, if you're so noble—Sir knight. Just where did these come from?" she asked, pulling at the extravagant nightwear.

Bruce just shoved his hands in his pockets and lowered his head with a thoughtful grin.

Despite her implication, her smile broadened. "Please, tell me you didn't—

"No- no," he interrupted quickly, grin still in place. "Alfred has—a friend-and she came to help." He'd sooner die than tell her who really had a hand in that one.

She was still looking at him with skeptical sideways glance, just a trace of a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Alfred didn't think you'd be very comfortable sleeping in a dress," he added quickly.

Chloe's eyes squinted a bit with consideration. "I'll be sure to thank him, as well."

"Uh, there's coffee and some breakfast downstairs—if you'd like some," he offered quickly, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "If you'd like to get dressed then there are some clothes in the wardrobe."

"Courtesy of Alfred's _friend_?" she asked, her smile not betraying her skepticism.

Bruce returned her smile with the playful notion that possibly breakfast just might be in order for him as well.

"I'll leave you to it then," he excused himself to leave her to dress.

oOo

It took Bruce only matter of seconds to leave Chloe in the midst of his house before heading straight down into the cave where he knew Alfred should be waiting with results of last night's chaotic, albeit interesting recon mission.

"Analysis, Alfred."

Alfred turned away from the multiple screens that were tossed up all over the laboratory area.

"Just as you suspected, sir. _Flunitrazepam_," he informed gravely. "Or most commonly referred to as—

"Ruffies," Bruce finished deadpan as his gaze locked onto the screen, but unseeing as a jolt of anger shot through him.

"A moment longer and I'm afraid our dear Miss Sullivan would've had more to worry about than simply waking up in an unfamiliar mansion," Alfred added.

Though he wasn't surprised, Bruce's mind raced for calm reason in order to tamp down the adrenaline rushing through him fueled by this strange feeling of rage at the various scenarios of how last night could've ended had fate not thrust them into each other's paths.

"But why a date rape drug," Bruce couldn't help thinking aloud. "Why go to the trouble of drugging her when he had the sure thing draped over him all evening?" He shook his head, befuddled. "Someone must've known she was with the_ Gazette_. That's the only explanation."

"After all, Mr. Van Zandt was there, sir," Alfred remarked as he cast a glance to the surveillance screens to find that Chloe was examining herself in the mirror. "Curious though," Alfred added thoughtfully.

"Oh, absolutely," Bruce replied as he watched surveillance videos of the rooms that she occupied. Despite his benevolence, he wasn't leaving anything to chance. Without a doubt, if he turned his back on her for even a moment, she'd somehow manage to snoop her way right up behind him. The image of her tapping on his shoulder only to find her smirking up at him nearly brought a smile to his face.

…nearly.

"It's not that, sir," Alfred referred to the mystery of Maroni having drugged Chloe.

Bruce shot Alfred a curious glance from the corner of his eye. "What do you mean?"

"After all, sir, this _'ruffie'_ as it is referred; it's designed to render an individual completely incapacitated with no memory of anything that occurred during that period. In addition to the alcohol she consumed last night, Miss Sullivan managed to be perfectly…how shall I say it? …smashed? Yet this morning she doesn't seem to be ill, no headache, no nausea, absolutely no signs of a hangover whatsoever. Forgive me, sir, but even your most seasoned alcoholic isn't that immune. Not to mention she seems to recollect quite a bit of last evening,' Alfred noted.

"Yes," Bruce drawled in a thoughtful manner. "She even went so far as to accuse me of trying to bed her and Miss Whitfield in the same house, in the same evening."

After that little bit of information, Bruce was waiting for Alfred's response in some form of disbelief, but after a moment of silence he looked up to find Alfred grinning from ear-to-ear.

Bruce could only roll his eyes. "Oh, c'mon Alfred."

Alfred's smile never wavered. "Far be it from me to discredit your own prowess , sir. However, I would've liked to have been the proverbial _'fly on the wall'_ for that one. I'm sorry I missed it."

Bruce gave Alfred a rather pointed look. "Back to the topic, if you don't mind, Alfred. Even if Miss Sullivan were a veritable Lindsay Lohan, it still doesn't explain what Maroni thought he was going to do with her," Bruce considered, the possibilities nagging at him.

"No sense in mulling it now, sir," Alfred reasoned. "She's here, she's safe. All that's left to do is to take her home."

"Unless Maroni decides to come after again. You can be certain that he knows where she lives now," Bruce countered.

"Then that does present a problem, then doesn't sir? Eventually she will want to go home," he informed as he pointed to the surveillance camera in the foyer.

Bruce watched as Chloe had gathered her things and was quickly making her way to the front door.

oOo

Last night must've been worse than she remembered. Chloe had thought for certain she'd be hard-pressed not to snoop to her heart's content, but found she was anxious to make a hasty exit. Her memory was fast coming back to her in flashes. As her brain was in such fast recovery, she felt that it must also be kicking in her survival instinct of fight or flight. In which case, she couldn't run fast enough.

"Leaving so soon?" his voice echoed to her ears causing her to pause with her hand on the front latch. "I had thought for certain I'd find you poking behind bookcases, not running for the front door."

Chloe fought the urge to roll her eyes, but instead turned with sardonic smile in place. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'll have to take a rain check on playing celebrity sleuth for another time."

Bruce settled before her, hands in his pockets. "You know studies strongly advise against skipping breakfast. Alfred might not be a professional, but he makes a fabulous garden omelet," he offered, with a tilt of his head towards the general direction of the kitchen.

Before Chloe could give him a crushing _"some other time"_ she felt a gnawing rumble within her middle and absently pressed her hand against her stomach to quell the noise. Oh, how she hoped he hadn't heard that.

He lowered his lips to her ear. "There's hot coffee and plate full of croissants."

A quirk tugged at Chloe's mouth. "Why Mr. Wayne, are you trying to seduce me into breakfast?"

Instantly Chloe found herself staring at plates full of every kind of breakfast food imaginable: a picture perfect Garden omelet with a side of Applewood bacon. Strawberry crepes smothered in whipped cream, a row of French toast, small sides of sausage and croissants littered the black granite countertop of the large island within the kitchen.

She wheeled her head around to where Bruce was fetching his own coffee. "You do realize that I can't eat all of this?"

"_I _couldn't eat all of that," he chuckled with emphasis as he settled down on the other side of the island.

"You know, this really is above and beyond the call of duty and don't get me wrong, it all looks and smells fabulous, but I really should get going," she babbled as she began to slide off the bar stool.

"All right," he exhaled through a great sigh, allowing his eyes to circle skyward before settling pathetically onto the counter. "I guess Alfred went to all this trouble for nothing."

Chloe openly gaped at him. "Are you serious with the guilt trip?"

Bruce never looked up, only shrugged.

Still looking at him, Chloe plopped back onto the stool, grabbed at a croissant and tore into it. "Happy now?" she shot at him, mouth full of bread.

Bruce raised his head, cynical expression in place. "Immensely."

oOo

A/N: Okay, so it isn't much :-p But I'm trying to build up to a chapter that is purely just Bruce and Chloe. So let's kick it off with breakfast!


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's Note:** Sorry that this took me so long. This is strictly another Bruce/Chloe centered chapter. Originally, I had this scene set in a whole new location and it just wasn't washing. Also I don't know if Chloe is afraid of heights...but for now she will be.

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own it, and don't make a dime off of it. It's just fun._

oOo

"Sorry to interrupt sir, but—ah, Miss Whitfield has arrived…most unexpectedly," Alfred tentatively announced from the kitchen doorway, cleaned and pressed laundry held in his hands.

Upon the mention of the snooty socialite, a surprised Chloe glanced from Alfred's placid look to Bruce's seemingly placid gaze. Outwardly, his only reaction was a burdened sigh of resignation as he rose from across the island and lazily strolled out of the kitchen.

As she watched him leave, Chloe gave a mental shrug. She had to hand it to him. Bruce was putting on quite the blasé attitude-which wasn't uncharacteristic of most guys in this particular situation. Yet underneath that cool exterior, Chloe saw something that she felt that no one else had ever seen in those dark eyes and she had to fight the smile that resulted in the revelation that the he wasn't completely _unlike_ every other man she'd ever met: flat terrified to have to confront the woman he'd stood up for the evening.

Chloe turned back to her half eaten breakfast with a knowing smile. Looks like Mr. Wayne was going to eat a little crow along with his breakfast this morning. But even as she lightly picked at her omelet, Chloe had a nagging feeling that tugged at her conscience.

She was fast remembering last night well enough. It was easy to tell that Bruce had been playing things cool, but Miss Whitfield was absolutely filling her role as spoiled, pouty rich bitch quite well. Chloe knew the breed well enough and even she could appreciate the cliché of the savvy businessman dating a popular socialite. But then there was that nagging sense that Bruce wasn't truly a part of that rich boy's club that continued to war with her reason. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but he simply didn't seem suited to the role no matter how much he seemed to try to play it.

In her mind's eye, she could see how this was all going to play out. And, for once, Chloe felt like there were simply some punishments that even the privileged few didn't deserve.

Suddenly filled with purpose, Chloe leapt off the stool and went in search of Alfred.

oOo

A glossy, manicured Miss Whitfield stood impatiently within the foyer of the Wayne Mansion leaning sharply into one hip while tapping her black stiletto on the marbled floor; her skeptical brow seemed to say that she was fully prepared to disregard almost any explanation that he might have.

"…I've been waiting on a reply to recently proposed merger. I'm certain that I don't have to tell you how unpredictable these things can be. I'm very sorry, but at the last minute some unexpected business came up and it simply couldn't wait," Bruce explained with a subtle tilt of his head in apology, hands in his pockets.

Bruce had spent every bit of the two minute walk from the kitchen to the foyer perfecting his bullshit story. Why the devil Alfred had let her in was beyond his comprehension? However, to his surprise, Madison Whitfield relaxed immediately. He knew she was the type to blow hot and cold on a whim. Yet once he'd learned about Maroni, his options had been limited. Miss Whitfield had literally been the last person on his list and going stag was not an option for this particular _"op"._

Seemingly satisfied with his explanation, she took a step toward him, a playful smile dancing across her lips. "I knew it had to be something like that," she replied predictably. "I know that you are much too smart a man to simply walk away from I had planned last night," she purred playfully as she trailed a red nail down the front of his shirt.

And just when it looked like he was about to get away clean…

"Bruce?" an innocent voice echoed towards them.

It was an absent reaction to turn his head and look over his shoulder, but Bruce didn't expect to feel his brows slide up towards his hairline as he watched the blonde that he _thought_ he'd left in the kitchen eating breakfast to casually glide up to him in nothing but a smile….and one of his dress shirts.

With full curiosity and absolutely no regard for current company, Bruce turned towards that sly smile just as she slid her hands up his chest to wind her arms around his neck. "I thought you said you wouldn't be gone long?"

Bruce merely looked down at her under hooded lids with an arched brow of intrigue. She was playing quite the seductive act; that much was obvious. It was also obvious that he didn't have to look to know that the long shirt she was wearing had ridden up considerably from mid-thigh to where Victoria would soon be displaying _all _of her secrets. For the first time in a long time, Bruce actually had to fight the urge to allow his arms to encircle her waist…or wherever else they happened to land. She was playing at a whole new dangerous game now and they both knew it.

Neither of them knew just how many times Miss Whitfield loudly cleared her throat…again. But once it finally grabbed Bruce's attention he turned only to receive quite a sound slap to his face.

"Yes, I can certainly see that this_ merger_ couldn't wait," she seethed.

And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed out; the slamming of the front door echoing about the foyer.

Chloe immediately dropped her arms from his neck. "Well, that's one man-eating harpy that didn't get to have you for breakfast," Chloe remarked, fully resumed as herself.

Bruce had to resist the urge to _not _shake his head in befuddlement. It was as she'd just thrown a bucket of cold water in his face, and he whirled around just as Chloe began to walk away, the hem of his shirt just barely hanging below her backside, showing off her legs to _his_ advantage.

He felt a quirk tug at the corner of his mouth just as Alfred crossed the foyer, laundry in hand. "And what do you know about this Alfred?" he called.

"Not a thing, sir," the butler called back just as disappeared into another doorway.

oOo

Chloe slid a shaking hand through the sleeve of her borrowed cotton blouse. The urge to laugh and to flee warred with one another as the vision of her practically running out the front door presented itself as a viable option. Clinching her eyes tightly, the words, "_What the hell were you thinking?"_ rolled over and over in her mind.

It had seemed like a good plan-at first. But the moment she allowed herself to touch him was as if a lost part of herself came alive in that instant. All those emotions that she tried so hard to bury below the surface; all those feelings that she was determined to never need literally came bubbling to the top.

Now all she could think to do was take her borrowed clothes and haul ass.

"Surely, you aren't leaving now. Not after coming to my rescue?" Bruce actually chuckled from his spot in the doorway. "Which really wasn't necessary, by the way" he added.

Yet Chloe was determined to remain as cool and detached as possible. "Oh sure, I could see that you were doing splendidly," she added a sarcastic roll of her eyes, trying to seem blasé. "I just thought that you needed help to seal the deal."

He lifted a smug brow. "Really? And what deal was that?"

Chloe shrugged her bag onto her shoulder. "Are you serious? Alfred might as well have told you that a package labeled _Level 3 Biohazard _had been left at the front door. I was under the impression that you didn't want to see her again," she said with a snort of laughter. "Do I need to send her a gift basket with my apologies?"

"And here I thought it was because you wanted me all to yourself," he replied.

"Don't flatter yourself," she countered and started for the door. "She was hardly your type," she mumbled as she passed, but it had been loud enough for Bruce to hear.

His hand shot out to catch her upper arm, effectively stopping her. He completely disregarded her look of outrage and pulled her close. "And just what is my type?" his voice practically rumbled down her spine.

Chloe's eyes fell as her brows pulled together in humiliation. "Oh—I said that out loud, didn't I?" she mumbled, but quickly put on a knowing look. "Look, I'm sure you have bottomless black book with an endless list of the best that Gotham's society has to offer and I know not all of them are willing to throw Paris Hilton-sized temper tantrums. And besides, I…

"Enjoyed it just a little bit," Bruce conveniently supplied.

Chloe shot him an exaggerated tantalizing expression. "Was it as good for you as it was for me?"

Joking or not, she really needed to stop that.

He lowered his head to fix his eyes on her. "So what does the lady request for such a valiant deed?"

"Not a thing," she said simply as she tugged against his grip, but he held her fast. "Why, Mr. Wayne, if I didn't know better, I would think you were the one having a hard time letting go," she joked, but inside she wasn't laughing. Rather inside is where she was becoming more of a mess as long as he kept looking at her like that. The charges between them were fast becoming unmistakable. To her chagrin, Chloe found that she could no longer deny that she, along with half the rest of the female world, was attracted to this man. She'd been in this boat before and for the moment, just assumed jump out even without benefit of a life-saving device.

Unexpectedly, he relinquished his hold and Chloe wasted no time in heading for the door.

"And if I didn't know better, I would think you were frightened of me," Bruce called after her- which predictably stopped her in her tracks.

She turned slowly, her pale green eyes flashing. Without a word, she strode straight up to him and landed a very pointed finger in the middle of his chest. "_You_ are hardly any sort of man that could invoke even the slightest "—she spanned an inch with her thumb a forefinger—"semblance of fear in me or anyone else for that matter. For your information, _Mr. Wayne, _guys like you were kibble for someone like me. I practically picked my teeth with your corporate bones during my junior year in high school. So the day that you think that I am in any way afraid of you—Ugh! Will you wipe that smug look off your face?"

Her outburst only served to make his smile broaden. "So prove me wrong," was all he said to counter her tirade.

Chloe's eyebrows leveled and crossed her arms. "So is this where I succumb to your reverse psychology? You call me a chicken and I stupidly throw effort after foolishness?" She put her back to him, her leg bouncing wildly in irritation. Not simply because that he had gotten to her, but that she was allowing it to happen.

Suddenly, she whirled on him once more. "I'm not scared of you," she pointed at him with emphasis, but feeling and sounding no better than a child shouting into the dark.

He pulled out a long strip of black silk. "Nor should you be," he replied, as Chloe found her gaze covered in the soft fabric before she could protest.

oOo

"You do realize that I'm only humoring you, right? I could take this blindfold off any time," Chloe remarked, unable to hide the tremble of trepidation in her voice. She just knew that he had dragged her into at least three different elevators without even a hint as to where they were going. "Are we up high? Because it feels like we're up high?"

Bruce chuckled lightly. He knew she was in no danger of removing the silken blindfold. Her love for mystery was too great. Of that, he could relate. "What's the matter? You afraid of heights?"

"Just falling from them," she tossed back, nearly ashamed to admitting such a thing to him of all people. "Why do you ask? Are you planning to push me off a ledge?"

"Hmmm, something like that," he hummed and ripped the blindfold from her eyes.

Chloe instantly jolted with fear as a great chasm opened out in front of her like an abyss that threatened to swallow her. All that she seemed able to discern was a pseudo-rock wall staring at her from directly across the way where she and Bruce stood on the precipice of a metal grate platform. Her next reaction was to clench her eyes shut.

Dammit, she just knew that he'd dragged her up some unimaginable height. Of all the times she'd ever heard not to look down, Chloe couldn't fight the urge not to do so and immediately found the world below peaking through the tiny grooves of the platform. Rafters ran at different angles above their heads and alongside the precipice in an enormous atmospheric room that contained innumerable activities—all to do with climbing…and falling.

"_I'm okay,"_ she chanted silently to herself_."Now all I have to do-is not move—not even breathe. "_

"Are you okay?" he murmured low, his concern laced with a trace of humor.

At first Chloe turned away quickly from the frightening world. "Okay, you win. I'm scared whitless," she acquiesced and turned quickly to find that she was nearly nose-to-chest with him. Lifting her head back to look up at this man Chloe realized that she must have unwittingly inched towards him in her apprehension; his solid form giving her a semblance of being grounded, of being safe.

"You know? You're absolutely impossible," she blurted, her eyes darting around for she didn't dare move her head. "Where the hell have you brought me?"

Bruce's brows scrunched with mock uncertainty. "So I guess bungee jumping isn't your thing?"

Chloe's brows leveled with disbelief. "Pray, what gave me away?" she quipped, clearly cynical. "What could I have possibly said or done to give you the impression that I enjoyed dangling from an oversized rubber band?"

Bruce ignored her jibe and glanced up her briefly, his eyes sweeping hers before he shrugged into the harness. "Impression alone," he stated simply. "You obviously don't frighten easily," he added as he began strapping on a chest harness. "And you said that you weren't afraid of me," he replied matter-of-factly.

Chloe's eyes shot wide open in shock. "Yeah, I didn't say I wasn't afraid of spiders either."

"No, what you said was that you weren't afraid of heights. Only falling from them," he reminded simply and turned to her with an extra harness.

Chloe quickly threw her hands up in a warding off gesture and would've backed away if she thought it would've been safe to do so. "Whoa! What do you think you're doing with those?"

"C'mon, it's like nothing you've ever experienced," his face slanted with a smile.

Chloe scoffed and her brows shot up in a _"Wanna bet?"_ gesture. "Yeah, landing on a hard surface with a _'splat'_ isn't exactly on my bucket list." She hazarded a glance over the platform. "I'm surprised that it's yours."

"Funny, you don't sound surprised," Bruce teased.

Chloe shrugged. "It's not a new story. A bit cliché really. Bored billionaires constantly throwing—no pun intended, by the way—into uber-macho hobbies for the thrill of whatever else they're lacking. A little too Thomas Crown for my taste."

"And what if I said that it had nothing to do with thrill seeking?"

Chloe shot him a look of skepticism layered with disbelief.

Bruce rolled his eyes, relenting in good nature. "Okay, what if I said it wasn't _only_ for the thrill," he amended quickly. He wouldn't dare tell her that he'd substituted Alfred's suggestion of polo with bungee jumping.

Chloe cocked her head to the side in genuine curiosity. "Then I would have to ask, Mr. Wayne, just why else you would purposely throw yourself from several stories with only a rubber band to catch you?"

He buckled a harness around his waist and legs. "Part of it is just as you said: boredom. Believe me, this never gets boring,"—he shot her a pointed look—"and it never gets easier."

That admission alone caught Chloe off guard and brought her up short. "So why do it?"

He exhaled a little humor, his mouth lifting to one side. "Obviously, man was never meant to fly; much less fall from amazing heights and expect to live. It might work for Wile E. Coyote, but not us. Our primitive instinct isn't used to that kind of manipulation. So after each jump it seems to…" he paused, his eyes seeming to search for the right words before settling on her, "…make you appreciate all the little intricacies of life."

Chloe felt her lips spread in genuine admiration at his words. "Wow, I'm impressed. That was almost poetic."

He returned her smile and held out his hand. "So, will you have a go?" he offered.

Chloe threw up her hands in a warding off gesture. "No, no, no," she trilled. "I think I'm out of here."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you hurled out of a second story window?" he pointed out, regarding the explosion in District 12.

She was surprised. "You read that, huh?" Chloe heaved a great sigh. That night was till coming back to her in pieces through her dreams. "That was different. I didn't have much of a choice," she stated. "This isn't rushed. It's very straight-forward with meticulous decision," she added. When he said nothing, she turned to find him staring at her as if to say _"Well?"_

Chloe thought he was joking, but the glint in his eyes said otherwise. "Oh hell, you're serious," she declared with dread, sparing a quick glance through the grate.

"C'mon, we'll jump together," he said.

Chloe's head jerked up to look at him and was certain that the terror that must've been written on her face suddenly had nothing to do with jumping from nearly fourteen stories. Her heart suddenly began to pound out of a whole new fear.

His eyes were warm, his hand held out to her. "I promise I'll hold onto you the entire time."

At that moment, Chloe wasn't certain what was more frightening: the fear of falling with this man or the fear of falling for this man.

"C'mon, you're not gonna chicken out on me now?" he interrupted her thoughts. She lifted her lids to find his dark eyes sparkling with a teasing glint. "I mean anyone willing to face down Madison Whitfield…twice," he added with a quirk in his cheek. "Not to mention, anyone who could _almost_ kick my ass."

"Almost?" she feigned incredulity. With a surge of confidence, Chloe rose from where she sat practically crouched into a ball. "You're on," she said as she stepped so close to him that she could feel his warm breath on her face.

Chloe became acutely aware of his hands. Each brush of his fingers against her as he helped her into the chest harness; deftly tightening and fastening each and every strap. With each click of a buckle, her anxiety heightened more each click and before she could have second thoughts, he had their harnesses joined together.

Encircling her with his great arms, Bruce pulled her closer to his body. "I swear. I won't let go," he murmured, his grip tightening with assurance.

Chloe only nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. "Okay," she whispered, sliding her hands to clasp behind his back.

And with that, there was only a moment; a solitary second where they both stood on the edge of a precipice staring into one another. Before Chloe could fathom the swirl of emotions coursing through her, Bruce slightly twisted his body and calmly tipped to fall from the side of the platform, never taking his eyes from her until she buried her head into his chest as they plummeted.

Chloe's body was painfully rigid to the point that she refused to breathe as she fell. On the unexpected wrench of the first rebound, she gave a surprised shout and immediately began to squeal with laughter as they continued to rise and fall in a few short rebounds before they began to swing as they dangled upside down, still holding on to each other.

Her breath was coming fast, her heart slamming into her chest. Oddly enough the only part that seemed to hurt was her face where she smiled. "Wow," she breathed.

"You think that's cool?" he challenged and without warning, he reached up behind her and tugged one strap that sent them free falling causing Chloe to squeal in surprise until they landed with a great _'whoosh'_ onto a large inflatable.

Bruce sat up, pulling a pleasantly stunned Chloe with him. "Are you okay?" he asked as he unhooked them both.

"Are you kidding? That was amazing!" she half-shouted, her eyes sparkling; cheeks flushed. "That was exhilarating!"

Bruce was near to breathing heavily himself, his eyes lifting with mild surprise. "You wanna go again?"

Instantly, Chloe's entire expression leveled with seriousness. "No."

Bruce surprised Chloe and himself when he grabbed her up in his arms and began rolling with laughter.

oOo

"So, what's next? Rock climbing?" Chloe jibed as she carefully took a heavenly bite of her Oriental Chicken Salad. "This is so good," she mumbled as she speared another dressing soaked bite.

Bruce huffed his amusement. He knew the food in the cafeteria of Gotham's Community Center was palatable at best. "You up to it?" he returned in like kind.

Chloe chuckled. "No," she replied and shrugged. "Doesn't matter anyway. I've got work to do for the paper tomorrow morning and get ready for a date tomorrow night."

Bruce immediately stiffened. "A date?"

"Yeah," she smiled knowingly. "At the opera." With that, she rose with her tray.

Dammit, he knew exactly what that meant. He quickly gathered up his own tray and hurried after her. "Uh, you know, there's an amazing exhibit at the Gotham Aquarium. You like butterflies?"

Chloe set her tray aside as she turned to him with suspicion written on her face. "Butterflies."

"Or we could…"

"Okay, whoa, stop right there," she said, shaking her head nonsensically. "What do you mean _'we'_?"

He tilted his head. "It's the least I could do after this morning."

Chloe wasn't buying. She folded her arms across her chest, her eyes carefully examining his face. "If I didn't know better, Mr. Wayne, I'd think you were trying to keep me from going home."

Bruce stepped closer to her. "Maybe I just wanted to spend a leisurely day with a beautiful woman," he replied, his eyes seeming to glitter like dark coals.

No flies on him. Chloe rolled her eyes. "Don't do that," she scoffed and maneuvered around him and began marching to the nearest exit.

Bruce finally caught up with her in the lobby of the community center. "Don't do what?" he called out over the rush of an opulent water fountain.

She whirled on him. "Are you kidding?" she exclaimed.

He tilted his head with a curious brow. "You think I have an agenda?"

"Agenda, ulterior motive. Potay-to, Po-tah-to," she shrugged. " You tell me. "

"You don't give yourself enough credit," he stated plainly.

"And you clearly give yourself too much," she shot back at him.

His expression was smug. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"What did you think? That you'd bring me here and literally sweep me off my feet and hope that I didn't notice you're trying to hide something from me? That sort of tactic might work on your feeble minded Miss Whitfield, but you'd have to go the extra mile to pull the wool over my eyes."

Bruce raised his eyebrows with a nod of acquiesce to her point.

"You've clearly gone to a lot of trouble for some mysterious reason and yet you insist on throwing up this…this mask!" she gestured to his face. "I don't understand. What are you so afraid of? That I might see the real you?" she shot at him.

He leaned toward her, his dark gaze shifted from placid to unflinching with serious intent. "And what about you?" he countered, his nostrils flaring. "For one who so often points fingers, you don't seem to see the three pointing back at yourself. Perhaps you should remove your own mask before trying to rip off mine."

His control could be amazing. In that moment, his expression never changed; he'd hardly even moved and yet, Chloe had never seen such a show of emotion. But there was something else deep in those shadowy depths; something familiar that she'd been no stranger to and it gave her pause. "What are you protecting me from?" she whispered.

He said nothing; indicated nothing. Chloe could see a maelstrom of emotion trying to fight its way to the surface, but he kept it banked down like a wildfire that could become out of control. Despite their closeness, Chloe found that she looked away in the uncomfortable silence.

Chloe turned away from him and began to walk away. She couldn't fathom why he would be trying to keep secrets from her. What did they really know about each other anyway? Their meetings had consisted of nothing more than a series of random accidents; coincidence at best.

That thought pulled her up short, her steps beginning to falter. She'd learned a long time ago that there was no such thing as coincidence. She turned to face him once more. The shadowy reflection of light from the falling water of the fountain flickered across his hard gaze. Chloe nearly gasped out loud. All this time...

"Chloe," she blurted, turning to look at him once more.

"Excuse me?"

"My name," she said. "That's my name. Chloe… Sullivan."

"Chloe," he repeated as though he were rolling it over his tongue for the first time. His brows drew together. "Why are you telling me this now?" he asked.

Chloe tilted her head with a one-sided grin. "I don't know," she whispered. "Perhaps this is me showing you mine."

Still he said nothing.

"Maybe one day, you'll show me yours," she quipped.

oOo

_Author's Note: Just to be clear, I've never bungee jumped before so I couldn't write an accurate experience. Hope it wasn't too disappointing. I hope to be done with this soon. This fic is getting so long that I can't hardly keep up anymore..lol. _


	31. Chapter 31

_Rollin' rollin' rollin'...tryin' to keep this story rollin'. _

**Disclaimer: I don't own DC Comics, Smallville, or a less-than-clever rendition of _"Rawhide"_**

oOo

"Open up!" was the demand that roared through the hollow apartment door followed by an unrelenting pounding.

Carefully, Oliver sidled up to the door, taking great care to even look through the peephole to see just exactly who was trying to huff and puff and blow the door down.

Four tall guards clad head-to-toe in black S.W.A.T. stood outside the door, but he knew that they weren't in any way associated with law enforcement. They were well equipped with side-arms and heavy steel-toed boots that looked like they could kick the door down quite easily. "Uh, yes…can I help you?" Oliver winced as he squawked in his worst old lady voice as he searched the apartment for an escape route.

"Open the door!"

Oliver's mind raced with what exactly was his best course of action. His options were quite limited in Chloe's little apartment. He was one man with only his fists and cucumber cream at his disposal; hardly the preferred weapons against men with guns and steel-toed boots. "Now, that's no way for a young man to speak to his elders."

"Open up you old battleaxe!" was all Oliver heard as he leapt away from the door, grabbed his phone and lunged for the tiny window that led to virtually nowhere, not even a fire escape. "Time to call the cavalry," he mumbled as he hit one button and squeezed out the window.

Within seconds the sound of the door being kicked open let Oliver know that he had mere seconds as he clutched desperately to the drain pipe that ran down the side of the apartment building. In the meantime, he began climbing to the top of the roof, which was no short distance away. Good thing he put out an emergency signal.

oOo

"_Bruce, don't make me your one hope for a normal life."_

Her haunting words echoed tortuously in his mind.

He simply stood with his hands shoved into his pants pockets within the Dining Hall, staring at the light from the flames as they danced over the immense carving above the fireplace.

'_The Abduction of Persephone' _was the general reference of the Greek god Hades. The reclusive Greek god that had suddenly became so enamored of the young goddess that he decided to kidnap her and take her back with him to the underworld.

He had decided to have the piece commissioned with the portrayal according to _Ovid_, which had shown Persephone leaving of her own free will. Of course, anyone might have trouble believing that a vibrant beautiful girl would willingly descend into hell even if he was not only known as the god of the underworld, but the Lord of Wealth as well.

The similarities were uncanny in a stomach churning sort of way.

His original intent had been to serve as a subtle reminder; a way to make him see that it really was better to remain alone. Now it only seemed to serve as a tormenting piece with the very stark realization that there would probably never be a day when any woman would willingly descend into his version of hell.

His eyes, which ran over the stone, managed to crinkle in irony at the subtle carvings of the small winged creatures swirling about the couple as Hades directed his dark steeds into the darkness of a deep cavern.

"Avoiding the issue won't make it go away, Master Bruce," Alfred's voice echoed from behind him.

He didn't turn around, but stood fast. "I'm not avoiding anything, Alfred," he declared in a blithe tone.

"So does this mean that you'll be moving on to bigger and better things?" the butler secretly taunted.

"Cut to the chase, Alfred," he said, sounding more than aggravated.

"Well, I mean you've learned the girl is innocent. She obviously has no criminal ties. She'll be an excellent journalistic tool to suit Batman's purposes—

"She's not a tool, Alfred!" Bruce exclaimed suddenly, taking them both by surprise.

Alfred was immediately silenced for a moment. "Well then," he breathed in surprise. "Pray, what would you call it?"

"What she does with information that she receives is entirely at her discretion," he explained.

"My point is, sir," Alfred began again. "Is that you no longer have a reason to see her again."

Bruce fixed his gaze on the very feminine carving above him as if he were trying to hammer into his brain that, in fact, he didn't really need a reason to see her. Any contact from here on out would all be purely professional, but the fact of the matter was he was way too invested to turn back now.

"She is rather lovely, isn't she?" Alfred remarked.

Bruce's shoulders sagged with a heave of exasperation. "That's rather cliché, don't you think, Alfred?" he remarked, finally turning to face the older man.

Alfred, blithe in his own knowing way, took a step forward. "Were I a blind man sir, she would still be lovely. And _that_ makes all the difference."

Instantly, Bruce lost his resolve and turned away from the carving, passing Alfred as he walked out of the Hall.

No woman would be willing to make such a sacrifice.

And he couldn't ask her to.

oOo

"I'm sorry Mr. Luthor, but you must understand that—an undertaking of this magnitude takes more time than I'm afraid you've allotted me."

Lex leaned forward in the chair of his luxury jetliner as if the man he was addressing sat in front of him. "Look, doctor, I've been as patient as any man in my position can afford to be and I don't have time for excuses. You either have Moira ready and able by the time I arrive in Gotham"—he looked at his watch for no particular reason—"or the gravy train that funds all your little pet projects will be put on permanent hold." And with that, he ended the call.

Clutching the phone in his fist, he resisted the urge to send the tiny piece of technology sailing through the fuselage of the plane. He wasn't truly due for Gotham for at least a matter of days, but the time was eating at him. Things weren't coming together quite as he'd planned. His men had finally moved in on Chloe's apartment to find it deserted. No trace of where she could've gone, so Lex was onto the next best thing: her cousin Lois.

He was certain that Ms. Lane wouldn't allow her cousin to simply pack up, pick up and move without letting her in on the big secret. As for Clark, Lex knew without a doubt that the farm boy knew exactly where her location was and would sooner die than give it up. So there was no sense in haranguing Clark when he'd have Lois lead him straight to Chloe like any faithful bloodhound.

A gentle tap on the shoulder brought Lex out of his thoughts and into a bright pair of blue eyes. "Excuse me, sir. We'll be landing within the hour."

Lex turned and smiled up at the pretty flight attendant. "Thank you, Charise," he muttered with a nod, but just as he turned away he heard another one of the girls in background.

"Did you hear?" she began, the high pitch of giddiness unmistakable. "Bruce Wayne got blasted by some waitress last night."

Lex's head absently leaned back towards the conversation.

"I heard she sprayed champagne all over his date," said another. "It's all over every pop magazine online."

On that note, Lex grabbed his iPad, his fingers dancing over the screen. Instantly images began popping up of the _delightful _young woman being subdued by his partying pal as she lunged, claws first, for a waitress. Although the picture of the waitress was from behind, Lex smiled with delight as he could almost see her shapely form swaggering away from the fracas. He shook his head nonsensically.

Scanning through various pictures, he finally caught sight of one that had nearly the entire scene with just part of the waitress' face. Her head was cast down with blonde bangs that hung low enough to hide her eyes, but not even she could hide that smirk of satisfaction that he'd seen flashed his direction so many times before. He collapsed back into his sit in awe. She'd been under his nose the entire time and he hadn't even realized it.

He reached over and hit the call button.

"Yes, sir?"

Lex turned up the girl with a blazing smile. "Yes, inform the captain that our stop in Maryland will have to be just a layover. I need to get back to Metropolis as soon as possible."

"Right away, sir," she replied.

Lex leaned back in his seat, Cheshire cat grin in place. It looked as if Alice had fallen down his favorite rabbit hole.

oOo

Chloe could only stare numbly at the mess that was her apartment. Papers littered the floor, the counters, her furniture overturned. Her computer lay in a crushed heap, her laptop dismantled. She wasn't surprised and almost borderline expected it.

"Do you have any enemies, Ms…uh…C.G.?" Gordon asked in futility.

She turned to him with a sarcastic look that asked, _'Are you serious?'_

Gordon merely nodded. "Right," he droned as he surveyed the damage. "I don't suppose you have any theories?"

Chloe scoffed. "Pick one. Whoever they are, they probably have each file, paper…post-it note that even remotely incriminated anyone tied to Gotham's mob family," she eyed Gordon pointedly.

"I don't suppose you kept back-ups," Gordon suggested.

Chloe nodded. "I have a flash drive in my purse and another at-oh my god, Walter!" she exclaimed with eyes widened in horror and immediately turned to run out the door when she felt a hand on her arm.

"Relax, he's okay," Gordon assured as he let go. "Walter is being watched and _The Gazette_ is being heavily guarded.

Chloe shot him a look of tired cynicism.

Gordon lolled his head in exasperation. "Guarded by _my _men. Men I can personally vouch for," he insisted and gave her a quick sideways glance. "I had help with that."

Chloe didn't have to be told whom.

And just the thought of him provoked a series of flashes.

"_What are you protecting me from?"_

And with that, Chloe leapt and dodged her way to the fire escape of her apartment, practically running up the ladder to the rooftop.

Vacant.

Chloe's eyes wildly searched across the rooftop. "I know you're here!" she shouted desperately into the shadows and began running to look behind each air unit, furnace and entrance to the stairs for any sign that he could be there.

"It's a trap."

She whirled at the rough sound of his voice. A rush of emotions swept through her: elation, relief, and comfort that he hadn't abandoned her; a myriad of feelings that she'd only just found in someone else.

"You knew this would happen, didn't you?" she said softly, her tone curious rather than accusatory.

"They're trying to provoke you into action. They're hoping to scare you into giving up what they think you know," he informed.

Chloe crossed her arms and shifted onto a bracing leg. "They won't find it."

"Now isn't the time to be overconfident."

"But I'm not!" she insisted strongly. She advanced on him with a pointed finger. "And you know that! You've figured it out, haven't you? You know it's not Falcone. That it never was Falcone or his thugs. You know it's—

She was cut off when his gloved hand shot out to cover her mouth. "You can't run the story," he said roughly. "It'll set the city in a panic and leave the police scrambling."

"I've often told her that she needed to come to me first before lambasting Gotham without so much as a head's up," came a calm voice from across the roof. Both of them turned to find Jim Gordon casually making his way towards them.

Chloe's eyes narrowed with aggravation at first. "Tell that to the red-headed bulldog that guards your office door," she shot at him, referring to last night before the whole hotel debacle had begun.

Gordon lowered his head with a nod to yield to her point. "Yes, I'm sorry about that. So what are you thinking?" he looked over her shoulder to the dark vigilante behind her.

"I think she's right. The Joker has been invoking Falcone's name to set the mob against each other with innocent civilians getting caught in the crossfire," he replied simply.

"Or journalists that put themselves there," Gordon shot a chastising look at Chloe.

"Hey, I have a job to do," she shrugged.

"Not this time," he growled at her.

Chloe whirled on him, eyes wide with astonishment. "How can you say that? Don't you understand? I can help you. I can—"

"No!" he nearly barked in her face.

Chloe abruptly stopped her tirade; his outburst momentarily stunning her. "Okay-I won't run the story," she conceded softly.

Neither had noticed but the good commissioner could only look from one to the other, brows raised in curiosity. "Would someone mind letting me in on the gag," Gordon finally said from beside them.

Chloe turned and explained her theory that she thought the Joker was playing double agent with Maroni. While he was working with Maroni, he was also inciting his cronies to invoke Falcone's name in order to maintain an invisible threat and keep Maroni second guessing.

Gordon mulled over this new information. "If this is true, then we've got a lot more to worry about than some silent crowning ceremony-by-opera. The Joker will continue to play Maroni until he gets wise and then…

"Gotham becomes a war zone," Batman supplied what they had all been thinking.

"I think the opera is where the Joker will make his biggest play," Chloe speculated. "What better place to humiliate Maroni and terrorize everyone else?"

"Then I guess we better get to work," Gordon stated, his brows lifted. "Thank you, Miss C.G.," Gordon said before turning back to make his way down the fire escape.

Chloe watched him leave, brows drawn pensively. "Not feeling a lot of confidence here," Chloe admitted aloud, rubbing her arms against the cold and the dread of the days to come.

"Gordon does his best," he stated plainly.

Chloe turned to face him. "And what will you do?" she couldn't help asking.

He said nothing; his unflinching gaze seeming to warn her to stay away from the issue altogether.

"You can't ask me to ignore this," she said. "Hell, my boss wouldn't let me even if I wanted to," she chuckled lightly.

"No story," he instructed.

Chloe shot up a three fingered salute. "Scout's honor."

With that he disappeared, not seeing that Chloe smiled like the cat that ate the canary.

Okay, so she wouldn't write the story exposing Falcone and the Joker. She didn't say that she wouldn't go to the opera though.

oOo

**_A/N:_** _Just a quick lead into the last of what we'll see of the Joker, Maroni and the whole mob bit. _


	32. Chapter 32

_**Author's Note**__: I really rushed this, so if something doesn't seem right...sorry. Everyone, don't forget. Lois hasn't a clue about Clark. To her, he's still just a farmboy ;-)_

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Smallville, Batman, DC comics, etc._

oOo

Chloe shuffled through her ransacked apartment, picking listlessly at the shreds of paper scattered all over. Her eyes moved over the men that remained as they finished up their meager investigation and heaved a great sigh. Now where was she to go? The idea of staying at her apartment occurred just as the idea that it was too dangerous soon followed. She was greatly tempted to call Oliver straightaway, but quickly dismissed the notion instantly. Oliver would most certainly tattle on her and as futile as she knew it would be, Chloe could see herself attempting to beat Clark off with a stick in an effort to take her away. The thought alone nearly made her as sick as staring at her apartment in disarray.

"Miss?"

Chloe heard the inquiry and it registered somewhere far away in the back of her mind. She turned listlessly to find one of the men standing before her holding out a small plastic card. "He said to give this to you," he said.

Chloe felt her brows pull together as she looked in confusion down at a very colorful cardkey that had the words _The Grand _inscribed in an elegant font across the bottom_. _"Oh, funny," Chloe mumbled with a scoff. "A+ for irony," she added and looked at the strange, young man in front of her. "Did he say anything else?" she asked, knowing exactly who would've given her a penthouse suite at the hotel where she humiliated him…and herself, for that matter.

"H-he said that, uh,"—the boy cleared his dry throat, clearly nervous—"that you should have, uh, everything that you n-need."

His nervous stutter raised Chloe's head with a peculiar quirk._ 'He must be a rookie'_, Chloe thought, feeling a bit sorry for him.

She smiled at him, hoping to put him a bit more at ease. "Thanks."

He hardly said a word as he quickly followed the rest of the men out of the apartment. Chloe's eyes followed him with a quirky sense of confusion and then turned back towards her apartment. Stepping around the mess to the platform that contained her bed and dresser, which neither had been spared in the rampage with the mattress flipped completely off into the floor while drawers and clothes had been strewn all over the place.

She carefully picked through the mess to gather a few choice pieces of clothing that she could scavenge. With a sense of regret and aggravation, Chloe picked up the no-nonsense suit that she'd been prepared to wear to the opera. So it wasn't exactly Loretta Castorini's red dress, but she wasn't exactly going for the scenery.

So, with a small bag on her shoulder and cardkey in her hand, Chloe decided to take Bruce Wayne up on his offer of a nice hotel room for the evening.

oOo

"So, is this the part where I say _'No, no, a thousand times no'_?" Lois ground out as she dug a spiked heel further into the _Daily Planet's_ basement floor.

"Lois, please, Oliver and I can't afford to—

"Afford to—what, Smallville?" Lois clipped, crossing her arms in a challenge. "My aunt is missing, kidnapped as far as I can tell. You practically need Indiana Jones to go find my cousin and you're telling me that it's best if I sit here and wait it out?" She tilted her head with hooded lids of sarcasm. "Just exactly what planet did you come from?"

At that, Clark nearly swallowed his own tongue trying to suppress a nervous laugh. He quickly recovered and clasped his hands together in a great clap. "Look, Lois. I wouldn't dream of asking you to sit idly by while Oliver and I—

"Go on a wild goose chase?" Lois interrupted, still clearly annoyed that Clark was putting her off. "Look, if you and Ollie wanna play Hardy Boys, that's fine. But this Nancy Drew is coming along for the ride."

At that, Clark dropped his arms with a great sigh. "Lois, it's way too—

"Dangerous?"

At that, Clark shifted his own position to one of defiance. "As a matter of fact, yes it is," he said, matching her crossed arms by folding his own. "At least let me and Oliver run recon. If we need backup, you'll be the first to know. Deal?"

Lois shifted her gaze away from him for a moment and then turned back with a great smile. "Deal," she agreed.

Clark's face fell into suspicion. That was way too easy. "You're sure that you're okay with that?"

Smile still in place, Lois gave a single great nod. "Absotively, posilutely," she quipped.

Clark, still not convinced, gave a suspicious sideways glance. "All right," he drawled with a twinge of uncertainty as he began to turn to leave. "I promise, we will call you."

Lois merely held up her phone and jiggled it for effect. "I'll be waiting."

oOo

Chloe stood before the double doors of the penthouse suite of _The Grand_, cardkey in hand, with more trepidation than she would've guessed under the circumstances. Why should he want to go to such trouble? Was it because she knew his secret? Or did he even realize that she was aware that Batman and Bruce Wayne were one and the same? Even so, on some level, she felt that she was taking advantage of his good graces. She knew that he wouldn't ask for anything of her, unlike other billionaires she'd known in the past. For all the playboy act he exuded, she knew well enough that he held honor above all else.

Just the same, she was here. Her apartment was a shambles and her own curiosity was eating at her. So without anymore introspection, she inserted the cardkey and pushed her way into the suite.

'_Posh_. _Simply posh'_ was all Chloe could think as she gaped around the entire suite. It nearly looked as though it awaited to house Cleopatra and her entire entourage. No contemporary fashion found here.

The granite marbled tile led her to a rich mahogany dining table laid out with exquisite china and glittering crystal topped with a fragrant floral arrangement of roses and lilies. Running her finger along the glossy finish of the table, she strolled past a cozy breakfast nook by the glass where one could overlook the city over morning coffee.

Chloe found she was no better than kid in a candy store as she practically sprinted to the master suite, unable to contain her excitement as to what she might find. She skidded to stop when she found an enormous round bed spread with cream satin and surrounded entirely by a sheer shimmering curtain of gold. She could hear what sounded like a fountain in the master bath, but Chloe was way too occupied by what lay upon the bed before her.

Against the cream of the bedspread laid a red rose evening gown entirely of satin. In awe, Chloe bent to delicately pick up the dress, allowing the heavy material to dangle from her fingertips. The red shone in the glow of the suite, the gathered halter of the top tapered into a cinched waist and fell into ripples of satin to the floor.

"Oh—wow!" Chloe chuckled low with a nervous, giddy feeling that started with butterflies and ended with goosebumps. Whatever else that Bruce Wayne possessed, he certainly had great taste.

Beneath the dress, lay a single, small white envelope. Chloe picked it up to find a card inside.

_**A hint at what is to come.**_

Chloe nearly shrieked with delight and twirled about the suite, the dress whirling around her. That he should think of her…

Tomorrow night was going to be the best night of her life.

oOo

"Not going tonight, sir?" Alfred inquired as he came upon Bruce, simply dressed in sweatpants and black t-shirt, on his way to the library.

"I really don't think that would be a good idea, Alfred," Bruce replied simply. Alfred knew all the obvious reasons that he tended to avoid the theater.

Alfred cocked his head to the side in confusion. "But, sir, what of Miss Sullivan?" he couldn't help asking. "She will obviously be there."

Bruce turned to Alfred with a befuddled look of his own. "No she won't. We had an understanding last night. She promised that she wasn't going to write…," he trailed off, remembering the brief conversation. He very nearly cursed aloud. Clearly, he should've know that she had been way too agreeable when she said that she wouldn't write the story, but she had never said that she wouldn't attend the opera.

"I thought that she left a rather peculiar message," Alfred stated, equally as confused.

Bruce furrowed his brows in question, not needing to ask it aloud.

Alfred was beginning to feel a bit nervous. "Well, she said to thank you for the _'sumptuous suite'_ and that the dress was quite possibly the most beautiful that she'd ever owned in her life. That _'it fit her like a glove'_, I believe were her exact words and that she would see you promptly at eight o' clock," Alfred recalled slowly, beginning to feel bit of confusion himself. "I wasn't aware that you'd gone to such trouble."

Bruce's mind reeled and he pinned Alfred with a stare. "I didn't."

oOo

Chloe stepped from the cab by the crowded steps of the theater. She was near to shaking with excitement, a feeling she'd not known in years and that alone made her anxiety almost blissful. Carefully stepping through the crowd, she scanned over the numerous suits and gowns for one particular face. She thought, perhaps, he might have arrived first and she found that she couldn't wait to see him again.

Clutching her pearlescent handbag, Chloe lifted her skirts and ascended the steps into the grand foyer. Great chandeliers illuminated the Hall with a golden glow, highlighting the numerous paintings with their gilded frames that led the eye to exquisite marble statues belying some of the most popular opera's that had graced the House in the past. Chloe came across _Daphne and Apollo_ as the Greek god of the sun chased after the woodland nymph. Another, _Orpheus and Eurydice_ that was a sad portrayal of the tragedy as the hero attempted to bring his bride from the bowels of Hades, his hand over his eyes. Several other portrayals lined the Hall.

A tap on the shoulder brought Chloe from her thoughts to find a dark haired waiter; his face alighted with a smile as he held upon a serving tray with a single flute of champagne. "Compliments lady, from a special gentleman," he said, and held the tray out to her.

She returned his smile as she plucked the flute from the tray. "Please follow me," he instructed and Chloe did as he bid, near to giddy with excitement and took a sip of champagne as she was directed down a dimly lit hallway; the walls red with gilded trim and decorated with paintings from the Renaissance depicting even more Greek inspired works.

"Where are we going?" she asked, taking another sip.

He did not answer and Chloe thought that maybe he had not heard. "Uh, is this the back way?" she chuckled nervously, feeling as if the light was becoming dimmer and absently finished what was left of her champagne.

Still no response.

Now she was becoming annoyed and sped up her steps. "Hey!" she half-shouted, grabbing him by the shoulder and leapt in from of him with the intention of interrogating him. Only the light began growing darker, the shadows on the wall swirling, her head spinning.

Her gaze was aimless. "What—did you give me?" she asked in vain as she shook her head in the futile attempt to clear it.

"Ah, Miss Watch-Tower," she heard through the haze. "So glad you could, uh, make it."

She turned so abruptly at the sound of his squeaky voice that all she saw was his ghostly face as it faded into shadow and limply fell into unconsciousness at his feet.

oOo

The orchestra began the introduction as the lights of the opera house began to dim. Commissioner Gordon was definitely going to have to answer to the Mayor for using the station in order to secure reasonable seating for this particular event. He had managed a second balcony seating from the back middle.

"_**See anything?"**_ came a gruff voice over his earwig.

Gordon scanned the crowd again. Easily he spotted Maroni and his _'guests' _as they entered the top left balcony closest the stage. "Not the ones we're looking for," he informed quietly. For once, the mob was the truly the last on his mind. Obviously, the Joker had plans and it was a nearly a labyrinth of possibilities trying to figure out which way to go first.

After the orchestral introduction, the red velvet curtains began to rise as everyone anticipated the first notes that would begin Act I, but as the curtains topped just below the rafters the lights went out, plunging the entire theater into darkness.

No panic. Only a sudden raise of confusion as a hush of voices ran over the crowd.

"_Ladies and gentle-men, please remain seated."_

Gordon lurched in his seat. "_**Don't move**_," he instructed.

"_Just a warning._ _While most people will simply find dried gum beneath their seats, one of you will find something a bit more—explosive,"_ he added with a throaty chuckle. "_So, it would be in your best interest—or not—if you decide just how necessary that trip to powder room really is. I wouldn't want you to miss the most anticipated show Gotham has ever seen."_

Gordon instantly began to squirm in his seat. It was yet another case that if one person rose away from their seat then one bomb or a plethora of explosives would erupt right there in the middle of opera house.

"_Tonight, I want to tell you a story. The story of the beauteous reporter and her knight in shining black- armor,"_ he continued. _"You see, once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl with golden hair."_

And with that, a solitary spotlight lit the stage. Only Gordon did not see the Joker. No, it was much worse.

Dangling from a single, thick braided rope was the impetuous blond reporter draped in red and hanging by her bound wrists high above the stage, her mouth having been gagged.

"_She had an amazing ability to foresee events before they happened. This caused a great deal of distress amongst the noble families and they wished to see her destroyed."_

Abruptly, Chloe began to fall towards the stage. A collective gasp of horror ripped through the crowd as she plummeted only to be wrenched to a stop just before her feet touched the wooden floor.

"_You see, they wanted to silence her voice. But they could not curb her desire for… justice_," he dragged out the last with a hiss.

A shrouded gray figure walked across the stage and stopped just long enough to rip the tape from Chloe's mouth, her cry of pain echoing through the building. And just as quickly as she'd fallen, Chloe was hauled back to the top.

Gordon was really twisting in his seat. Looking up at Maroni, he saw easily that the mobster was grinning broadly at the display before him. "We can't just sit here and do nothing," he nearly growled. "I do not want to pick that girl's broken body off of that stage."

"_**Wait**_," was the only reply.

"_What the noble family didn't know was that she had a grand champion,"_ he exclaimed with grandeur.

Silence.

"_Hmm, no champion?"_ he mused. "_Such a shame._ _For if the black knight doesn't appear before his lady love, then I'm afraid there will be no happy ending for the very disappointed audience_."

And Chloe dropped again, unable to contain her cry of panic shortly before she stopped midway to the floor.

"Do you really think he will sacrifice hundreds for just one person?" Chloe shouted in defiance.

There was no verbal response, only a knowing laugh as he hauled her up once more.

So this was how it was going to be. Either the audience would be blown to smithereens or she would find herself broken, maimed, maybe even dead and all for this tribunal by joust. She was beginning to feel quite like _Rebecca _only her _Ivanhoe_ had yet to show himself.

"So what do we do?" Gordon bit out, fearful that he couldn't lift himself from his seat. "We know his game, but don't where he is."

His response was a mysterious tap on his shoulder. Seeing no one, he didn't need to know who was on the other side of that curtain. He knew then that he was good to move and quietly slipped out of the balcony.

"Do you know where he is?" Gordon asked quickly.

"He's hiding in plain sight. Top middle balcony," he informed quickly, and turned. "Evacuate everyone quietly, starting with the back rows."

"What about the seats?" Gordon asked, confused. "Aren't they wired?"

"They're not on pressure switch. He controls everything. He has to set everything off," he informed.

Gordon only nodded. "Of course," he replied. "Where are you going to be?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Batman said nothing as he cut his gaze towards the stage and to the woman hanging above.

oOo

In the meantime, Chloe continued to dangle high above the stage. The bright light blinded her gaze to the crowd, only hearing their astonished gasps and cries of fear as she searched fiercely for any sign that he was somehow close.

"_So it would seem the noble family must decide her fate,_" he finally said, a spotlight crashing onto Maroni's balcony. "_What say you- great Caesar?_" he mocked.

Maroni gave no indication of the insult, only played along as he lifted his fist and dramatically turned it so that his thumb jutted downwards with a huge grin in place.

Another throaty chuckle followed the decree of the death sentence. "_I thought you might say that."_

Instantly a fire ball exploded from Maroni's balcony, showering the panic-stricken audience below with flaming debris. Chloe couldn't see what was happening, only heard the people as they began rushing from their seats in terror, smaller explosions she saw by only a flash and the acrid smell of smoke and chemicals.

Nothing, but sheer chaos reigned.

Chloe struggled in futility against her binds. She may be several feet in the air, but she'd rather fall to her demise than burn. She knew that he was here somewhere and she wouldn't dare expect him to risk all these people simply for her. She only wished that she were able to help him instead of being in such an undignified state as damsel in distress, yet again; nothing more than bait for the perverse pleasure of a maniac. To her disdain, she found that tears sprang to her eyes; whether from the smoke or her own self pity, she wasn't certain.

The ropes bit and scraped at the skin of her wrists as she continued to wriggle her hands free. There would be no Clark to save her this time, Chloe thought as she managed to wrench her hands free. She simply closed her eyes in a moment of weightlessness before she plummeted yet again towards the stage, fully knowing that she should not be saved at the last minute.

But when she landed, it was not on the hard wooden floor, but rather was caught up in great pair of arms. Shocked, she opened her eyes to find him scowling down at her. "Are you so ready to die?" he growled, just as he had during their crisis at District 12.

Chloe found that she smiled. "You aren't going to gas me again are you?"

He actually returned her smile with a one-sided grin of his own. "I'm thinking about it."

"_Moving in,"_ he heard Gordon say over his earwig.

It all happened at once. A click here, a wheeze there and Batman knew he was about to go up like a Roman candle. Without a second thought, he grabbed Chloe and threw her from the stage. He saw her struggling to get up, her face of panic-stricken terror the last thing he saw before smoke and flames erupted around him.

oOo


	33. Chapter 33

_Author's Note: Okay, I had written half of this many moons ago. I've been over it many times and I hope it still falls into continuity with the rest of the story. So, here goes…._

**Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, DC Comics, etc. **

**oOo**

**Explosion Rips Through Gotham's Metropolitan Opera House**

Chloe looked at the words plastered over the front page of the Gazette. And that was only the gist of the headline of what had happened last night. Gordon had managed to get the Joker, but not before tripping a wire causing the explosion on the stage. Maroni's fate had been kept so hush-hush that she suspected he would go the way of Jimmy Hoffa and others before him. But she had kept her promise. She didn't write the story. She _couldn't_ write the story. All she could think about was Bruce.

Chloe chewed her thumb as the events kept playing over and over in her mind like a torturous reel. One minute she was in his arms and the next she was flying through the air heading straight for the orchestra pit. She landed painfully only to turn and see the stage go up in an explosion of fire around him. She tried her best to climb up towards the stage when rafters and pulleys from the catwalk above fell down upon the stage and she felt several pairs of hands grabbing at her as they pulled her away from the wreckage.

No one in the media made any mention of what happened to the Batman. That is, if anyone had even noticed.

Unable to contain her worry for much longer, she grabbed her purse and headed straight for Wayne Manor.

oOo

Chloe wasn't a leaner, but she kept her finger on the buzzer until the gate before her finally opened.

Alfred met her at the open door as she ran up the steps towards him. Only one question on her mind, "Is he here?" she gasped.

"I'm sorry, but right now isn't a good time," Alfred said quickly, trying to sound as polite as his nerves would allow. Gently placing a hand at the small of her back, he began to attempt to usher Chloe towards the door. "I promise that as soon as Master Bruce is up and about, I'll let him know that you inquired after him."

Faced with the steps, Chloe stood unnerved and gripped the strap of her purse tighter. She couldn't leave. Not after everything she saw that had happened. She didn't want to leave.

The sound of Alfred's retreating footsteps brought her out of her thoughts. "I know what happened, Alfred," she blurted, unable to say anything else with more discretion. "I saw it all."

She turned slowly and was blessedly thankful that she had managed to stop Alfred in his tracks, but he still had his back to her.

With a sense of determination, Chloe began towards him. "Alfred, please. I can help him," she claimed with fervor.

Alfred then turned suddenly, a ravaged look on his face. "I don't think anyone can help him," he whispered, his breathe ragged with unshed grief. "I've done everything I can, but even Lucius says that a hospital—"

"Alfred," Chloe interrupted in a calm, but firm tone. "Do you trust me?"

At that question, a certain light changed in Alfred's eyes, his head turning slightly in quizzical fashion. The young girl that he'd unintentionally grown rather fond of sounded quite confident, which didn't mirror her desperate look, but it had come down to the wire. Whatever she thought that she could do…

"All right," he conceded in a quiet whisper. With no more words, he led her to Bruce's room.

Chloe followed close behind, her steps quick and unfaltering. She felt more unnerved than before. She knew she could help Bruce, she knew her powers could help him.

When Alfred stopped before a particular set of doors, Chloe took a deep breath before he quietly pulled one open.

"Lucius," Alfred called in a quiet tone and simply stepped aside to reveal Chloe.

The gentleman's eyes furrowed for only an instant as Chloe rushed forward.

Chloe took a seat by Bruce's bedside. She felt her stomach dive as she noted the I.V. machine and E.K.G. monitor immediately. Turning her gaze back towards Bruce, Chloe released a pensive sigh. The bed sheets were pulled to just under his ribs, revealing the stitched gashes, dark bruises and a suspiciously large gauze pad taped over the lower left quadrant of his abdomen. Very carefully, she allowed her fingers to graze the over the wound. While he had escaped the fire, yet he had not escaped the rest.

"That's the worst one," she heard Lucius' voice inform. "I don't know what happened last night, but he'll be lucky to pull back from this one…if he survives."

Not taking her eyes from him, she muttered. "This is all my fault."

She didn't see Lucius' suspicious look of question, instead released another sigh. "Look, I know that I haven't exactly been forthcoming with my personal information," she began, hesitantly shifting her eyes to Lucius. "I can promise you that my ambiguity was to make certain that no one was hurt," she explained and turned back to Bruce. "Especially him," she murmured, absently raking her fingers through his hair.

Lucius couldn't help a grin. "Well, you know, he can't resist a good mystery," he replied with a nod in Bruce's direction.

Chloe smiled. "I know the feeling well," she admitted and turned a steady gaze on Lucius. "Look, whether or not you trust me, I can help him."

Lucius felt an inner turmoil. From his first meeting of her, he never once sensed that she was in any way diabolical or calculating. She seemed like a simple, nice girl with a cynical attitude towards the world and a delightfully smart remark for everything, including Bruce. Which was exactly how her file read, but her connection with Luthor was still unclear and he couldn't shake that one shred of doubt

In the end, Lucius finally nodded. "Okay," he murmured as he rose and with one last look, left the room.

After the door shut behind him, Chloe turned to look at Bruce. He lay quiet and perfectly still. Chloe leaned closer, lightly tracing a fingertip over the wounds on his face. There was a large bruise on his cheekbone, a stitched gash over his right eye. His bottom lip swollen and busted.

"You stupid, stupid man," she said in an oddly soothing tone. "What were you thinking?"

'_What had he been thinking?_' she thought as she absently began running her fingers in a caress through his hair.

Suddenly, all the strange moments came to her in a flash. The tulips. Their unceremonious sparring match at the dojo. Throwing champagne on his date, only to wake up in one of his beds. His bumping into her in the coffeehouse. Bungee jumping. Just the other night when she learned who he really was.

"Wow," she gasped, her voice full of wonder. "Here I am again." The last time she was at handsome man's bedside, she'd poured out her heart. For her trouble, he called out another woman's name. At that she looked at him. "I should probably expect that from you." Yet deep down, she truly didn't.

"But you managed it, didn't you," she sighed as she settled her elbows on the mattress, concentrating on his hand as she carefully clasped it with her own. "Somehow, through all that infuriating smug arrogance," she scoffed with a smile. "The anonymous gifts, the banter, and your-unrelenting thoughtfulness" she finished.

Finally, she was unable to hold it in any longer. "You've made what I thought was impossible, happen so easily," she declared, her voice beginning to break. "You've made me fall in love with you." And her resolve crumbled and the tears began in earnest and she pulled his hand closer to her, to her cheek. "I may never be allowed to be with you, but I don't think that I want to ever be without you."

Without thinking, she leaned over him, her tears washing down her face. Finally she allowed her lips to gently graze his wounded ones.

In an instant, Chloe felt a strange warming sensation. Not taking her lips from his, she opened her eyes to a bright ethereal glow of light.

Feeling her tears sliding across her lips, Chloe closed her eyes once more and continued to pour the entire force of her healing ability into him.

Once it was over, she pulled away long enough to see that the bruises and cuts had healed. She grabbed her phone, but in that instant the last drop of energy drained out of her in a less than a nanosecond which sent Chloe crashing to the floor in a heap.

For a moment, she felt as if she were going into blissful sleep until a blurred visual of a face appeared over her.

"Miss Chloe, Miss Chloe," she heard over and over along with a gentle tapping on her face.

"Alfred," she mumbled through numb lips in recognition at the worried tone in his voice. Her head was fuzzy and she was having trouble bringing Alfred's face into focus. "Help me out of here," she croaked.

"Right away," he agreed quickly and carefully lifted her to carry her to a chaise lounge near the top of the stairs. Even through her clothes, he felt as if she were growing very cold. Alfred cast a quick glance down at her and noted quickly that her lips looked as they were beginning to turn blue.

Oh dear lord, what had she done?

"Lucius!" Alfred shouted desperately.

There was no time for second guessing. Finding the chaise along the immense hallway strictly for decoration only, Alfred quickly laid her upon the fainting couch. Placing two fingers along the pulse in her neck, he quickly noted that it was growing weaker.

"Alfred?" he heard Lucius' voice echo.

"We need an ambulance!" he called out. Alfred knelt down beside Chloe, awkwardly taking her cold hand into his own shaking one. "Don't you worry," he whispered in shaky good faith. "Help is on the way."

Indeed help was on the way. A quick blast of air and Alfred had the sudden sense that he wasn't alone. He managed to catch sight of Lucius at the end of the hallway. A tray he'd been carrying was quickly dropped on the floor as the man could only stand and stare dumbstruck.

Alfred slowly managed to look over his shoulder, half expecting to find a ghoulish monster.

Instead, there was a quite pleasant, young-looking man dressed simply in a brilliant blue t-shirt and a pair of denims. Alfred had never before seen this dark-headed man, but the concern in his eyes as he gazed upon the still woman next to him said that he was of no threat.

"I'll take her."

"Take her?" Alfred was still nearly as dumbstruck as Lucius. "She needs a hospital," he blurted quickly. "I don't know what she did, but-"

Alfred, in his state of worry, was near to bewilderment when the young man simply gave him a comforting smile.

"She'll be all right."

Alfred watched as he lifted Chloe carefully and gently into his arms.

"Please, let me know-"

But Alfred was cut off by another gust of air and watched as both of them disappeared in a blur.

His shoulders sank. "…how she's doing," he finished in vain.

Rushing down the stairs and to the doorway, he searched for any trace that they could be nearby.

But there was nothing.

Just a bright twinkle in the sky above him.

oOo

Warmth.

The sort of downy bliss one might experience snuggled comfortably deep in a cocoon of plush blankets and soft sheets.

For a moment, the shouts and explosions ceased to taunt his dreams.

It was almost as if he'd been snapped away from the jaws of the painful cold and enveloped into a pleasant, healing embrace. A bright flash near blinded his vision and for the briefest moment, he saw her smiling face streaked with tears. Reaching out, the image began to disappear.

"No!" he shouted desperately and lunged forward.

"Whoa, whoa, easy son," came a soothing tone.

Blurred images and all around disorientation, Bruce shook his head to regain his equilibrium and looked around.

He was in his room.

Without a word, he jerked his head to his right to find Lucius sitting at his bedside.

"Welcome back," Lucius greeted calmly. "You've made quite a magnificent recovery."

"I should be dead," Bruce declared rather casually as he blinked several times, disbelieving for a moment that this wasn't just a dream. Scrubbing his hand over his face and looked down at his torso. He ran his hand over the gash in his abdomen. It was completely healed.

He turned to Lucius, brows furrowed in confusion. "How did you-?"

Lucius merely closed his eyes and shook his head nonsensically. "Don't thank me. I can honestly say that I had nothing to do with it."

Bruce was completely bewildered. Certainly he must really be dead and this was some cruel joke on his way to Hell? The last thing he remembered was Chloe after he'd thrown her from the stage. "Oh god," he gasped in alarm and began to throw the covers away quickly. "Chloe!"

"Hey, whoa," Lucius said placing a halting hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Calm down. Ms. Sullivan is just fine."

"Sullivan?" he repeated stupidly, his head still a bit cloudy. "How did you know?"

"We'll get into that later," Lucius replied gently. "How do you feel?"

Bruce thought for a moment. He felt no pain from the wounds he'd sustained and none from the fall, or the many cuts and bruises. Not even a headache.

"Pretty good, actually," he replied in wonder as he scratched his head.

"Excellent," Lucius stated as he headed for the door. "I'll let Alfred know you're awake."

He sighed. "How long have I been out?" he asked as he slung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Couple of days," Lucius replied inconsequentially. "After you get dressed, meet me downstairs."

oOo

Chloe wrapped herself in her coat and walked to the rooftop. There she found Clark, hands stiffly shoved in his jean pockets, standing close to the edge looking out over Gotham.

"How do you feel?" he asked, without turning.

"Um, pretty decent, actually," she replied casually, as she continued to step closer to him. "I was actually surprised. I thought the next time I used my ability that—"

"—It might kill you," Clark supplied as he whirled on her, his face wracked with concern.

Chloe sighed at first, but managed a small smile. "But it didn't kill me, Clark. I mean, look at me. I'm the picture of health," she declared, but stopped short when the expression of worry didn't leave his face. "Clark?"

"It's not just that Chloe," he began as he met her halfway. "I'm just worried about you. I mean, we don't know what the true extent of this ability is anyway," he added.

"So I'm learning," she claimed with a sigh. "Besides, it did some good," she added, her voice faltering as she looked away from Clark.

Clark watched her closely.

"You mean, Bruce," he stated, his voice heavy.

Chloe looked down at her feet and just nodded quietly, but not without Clark hearing her sniff.

"Chloe," he pleaded.

She scoffed in annoyance. "I don't know what you think you know about Bruce—

"I know who he is," he declared. "_You _know who he is," he added with gusto. "Chloe, he's on the wrong side—"

"He's not—huh?" she cut herself off with surprise. "How did you…?

Clark sighed. "You've been out for two days, Chloe. Didn't you think I'd be doing a little checking up?"

Chloe only stared at him in surprise, but softened her stance. "He's not on the wrong side, Clark," she finally said. "He's just doing what others are afraid to do," she added, perhaps a little too pointedly.

Clark reeled as if he'd just been slapped. "Chloe," he began, but found he couldn't finish. How many times had he'd been accused of standing on the sidelines?

He was on the verge of defending himself, not to mention explain all the ways that Bruce was wrong when he noticed that she was gazing off into the night, tears welling up in her eyes. He didn't know the whole story. Between Oliver and himself, Clark had been able to access quite of bit of information regarding Chloe's activities in Gotham just from the _Gazette_ alone. So far, he'd learned that it was becoming terribly obvious that between Bruce Wayne and his alter ego, Chloe had become quite attached, which shed a whole new light on the situation. He hadn't seen her quite this passionate about anything in a long time.

"Oh no, Chloe, have you…?"

Chloe raised her head to meet Clark's eye. "Have I—what?"

His brows slightly rose with a ridiculous light of curiosity.

"I don't know, Clark!" she cried. "One minute I…I…and then he…he…"

Clark continued to follow her stuttering with a slight bob of his head, his curiosity not lessened.

In one long stream, it all came tumbling out. "You know, he's smug," she began, with a tally of one finger. "Arrogant—did I tell you I threw his ass to the mat?" she blurted, eyes wide. "He's secretive, sneaky, and I threw champagne on his date," she continued, babbling all at once. "He really knows how to put on a breakfast-

"Breakfast?" Clark repeated with eyebrows to his hairline.

"Chill Clark," she said off to the side. "He bungee jumps, he listens, and god, he's a great kisser," she said the last with longing.

"Okay, I don't think I wanna hear anymore," Clark said abruptly.

Chloe ignored him. "It's hard to explain, Clark," she finally said. "I can't help feeling that…" She couldn't finish, only sighed.

Clark resisted the urge to counter her sigh with barn-destroying one of his own. Seeing how she struggled with the admission alone, he guessed that now wasn't time to berate her on her choice of men, but instead he gently clasped her arms. "Can't feeling what, Chlo?"

She turned uncertain eyes up at him. "I don't know if I can do this Clark," she finally said, desperation in her voice. "How can I do this?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, his eyes squinting in confusion.

"Clark, part of the reason for my coming here was to protect the people I care about," she began as she stepped around him. "This wasn't just about protecting myself from Lex," admitting the last quietly.

"What do you mean, Chlo?"

Chloe turned to face him. "Clark, when I first found out that I was meteor-infected, I tried to act like that it was all going to be okay. That I would do my research, find a way to deal, but in the end it would all be okay."

Chloe could feel her emotions that she'd tried so hard to repress begin to churn in a most painful fashion. "Clark, for years we've seen that nearly everyone that had been infected with meteor rock had become homicidal super villains or raving lunatics or a combination thereof."

"But that's not gonna happen to you, Chloe," Clark began to argue.

"You don't know that!" she half-shouted, her fear and desperation beginning to take hold.

"Yes, I do," Clark began and stepped towards her. "The ones you're talking about were already corrupted before the meteor rock. They felt that they had found the ultimate power and you know what they say about absolute power?"

Chloe looked away from him and nodded. "That it corrupts absolutely," she replied mundanely.

"I know you, Chloe. You're a good person. You always have been. You're always striving for a cause. You won't become like the others," he maintained with confidence. "I think even Bruce can appreciate that."

The mention of Bruce's name held Chloe's gaze directly on the tips of her toes. "I suppose," she muttered.

Clark knew he didn't want to go into this, but he knew that Chloe needed to get it out and like a good friend, he was prepared to listen. "Tell me about him," was Clark said.

At first, she said nothing, only smiled. Finally, she looked up at Clark, her smile becoming a little crooked with quirk. "You know I couldn't stand him at first."

"Sometimes the first instinct is the right one," Clark blurted helplessly.

Chloe only blinked in good nature. "Clark, c'mon," she pleaded in good nature.

"All right, all right, I'm sorry," he nodded. "Go on."

"I don't know," Chloe began. "It was just…the little things, you know. He found out my favorite flower, sparring matches at the dojo—

"Sparring matches?" Clark exclaimed.

She tipped her head to the side with a smile. "Oh, I totally whipped his ass," she replied. "But-just talking to him, somehow he made me feel…like it was okay to be…me."

Clark looked down for a moment. He hadn't realized that Chloe had taken to becoming meteor-infected so hard.

"I don't know, somehow, I found myself looking forward to when I would see him again. I found myself…caring for him"-she took a deep breath and exhaled—"more than I thought. But now…"

Clark waited for her to finish, but she just kept her eyes somewhere other than him. "Now?"

"C'mon Clark, look what I did to him," she claimed.

Clark shifted with purpose. "Now wait a minute, Chloe. You didn't do anything except maybe save his life."

"But Clark if I hadn't—

"Chloe!" he interjected, but calmed. "Chloe, you have to understand. Bruce made his own decision about that night. You didn't make him do anything that he didn't want to do."

"But I can't keep putting the people I care about in danger, Clark! How am I going to be able to do this?" she asked, her tears beginning to form. "I mean, how do I keep everyone at arm's length? How am I supposed to consign myself to a life of complete loneliness?"

"Who says you have to?"

"Gah! C'mon Clark, you know as well as I do," she began, pacing back and forth. "I'm a freak and with great emphasis on the '_super'_."

Clark exhaled through his nose. "You're not a freak, Chloe," he insisted strongly. "Do you think I'm a freak?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Clark," Chloe replied. "You were born the way that you are. You didn't become who and what you are by accident."

Clark gripped her shoulders, his eyes boring into hers. "Neither did you," he insisted sincerely. "Do you really believe everything that has happened to you was just an accident?"

Chloe's raised her tear-filled eyes up to his and barely managed to whisper through her tears. "I don't want to believe that, Clark."

Clark straightened a bit, still keeping his hands lying lightly on her shoulders. "Why should you?"

Chloe immediately thought of Jimmy and turned away from Clark, effectively jerking out of his grasp as she faced the city. "Do you remember Dr. Knox, Clark?"

Clark cast his eyes downward. How could he forget? Nearly losing Chloe to that madman, in addition to facing his own immortality, had sent a shockwave through Clark and he was still reeling from its after-effects. "Yes. When you wanted to be cured of your meteor abilities," he emphasized plainly.

"That day, I told Jimmy that I was following a lead on one of the meteor-challenged," She explained and turned her head towards Clark. "Do you know what he had to say?"

Clark barely shook his head in response.

Chloe scoffed in memory with a sarcastic smile. "He said, _'Lately everything is about meteor freaks.'_ And that if '_Those freaks were locked up in Belle Reve'_ he…," She couldn't finish. The hurt in her voice told him that it was evident that she hadn't gotten past that day.

She turned her head to look at Clark. "It was as if he were confirming all my worst fears," she finally said. "And the look on his face, the tone of his voice when he would say _'meteor freak'_. It was if they…_me_… were less than human, Clark," she finished, her tone incredulous that Jimmy could ever be so callous.

"Chloe, he was just upset because he thought you were putting a story first," Clark tried to reason.

"It's not just that Clark. That night, he wanted things to be as normal as possible. Clark, I'm not normal! I'll …never _be_ normal…again!"

"The night that Bruce was nearly killed just reminded me of why I'll never be able to have someone in my life."

Finally, the damn broke. Floods of tears and emotions came rolling out and Chloe felt her legs buckle under the pressure.

Clark knelt in front of her. Her weeping echoed across the roof, but to Clark it was if the sound resounded through the city. Sitting back, Clark pulled her into a comforting embrace trying to soothe away the sadness that wracked her body with sobs.

Somewhere in the distance, Clark managed to hear a lone, gruff voice whisper.

"_You're not alone."_

oOo


	34. Chapter 34

**Author's Note:** _Oh, am I way, waaaayyyy overdue. I hadn't realized how much time had truly passed. I am earnestly and sincerely sorry for this very short update that has been long overdue. Needless to say, so much has happened since the last update and it nearly killed any desire I had for writing (for nearly anything) in any capacity. Yes, 2011 will go down as one of the worst years I've had up to this point. Each time I would sit down to think about this story or others that I had in the works, my mind would wander away simply because my heart wasn't in it. Now with The Dark Knight Rises coming soon, I knew I needed to finish this up before it came out when most everyone would be a lot more pro-Bruce/Selina Kyle. Hell, I might even like it. _

_So hopefully, with things getting back into a bit of normalcy, I'll be able to begin updating regularly again. Hopefully, this lives up to expectation to some degree. I know I kept wondering what would happen ;-)_

Disclaimer: I certainly own no part of DC Comics, Smallville, etc.

oOo

The morning sky was overcast with a blanket of clouds; only a dull glare of light to bleed through as a greeting for the day. All was quiet save for the determined footfalls of one man; his mood as dark as the clouds that loomed over Gotham and held just as much promise of rage and turmoil.

"You are certain that you feel well, Master Wayne," Alfred asked for the thousandth time as he rushed after Bruce.

"Healthy as a horse, Alfred," Bruce droned, eyes straight ahead; his destination clear.

In nothing more than a black t-shirt and sweatpants, Bruce marched straight into the library, pulled the obligatory title and was fast on his way to his meeting with Lucius. His mind warred with torrents of questions about everything that happened in just the last forty-eight hours. But the one that plagued him the most: Why? However it had been made possible, it was evident that she had done so at a great risk to her own life. That knowledge alone twisted in his gut like a knife which only served to anger him more.

The moment the doors opened, a sudden rush of cool air hit Bruce, suddenly reminding him just how alive he truly was. He quickly closed the distance between the lift and the control center where Lucius stood studying numerous images on several screens.

Lucius cast a quick glance from Bruce back to the images. "Good to see you've not suffered a relapse," Lucius mused.

Bruce merely grunted. "Yeah, I think she even managed to fix a cavity or two," Bruce remarked deadpan. He leaned over to brace his hands on the desk panel to look at the barrage of screens before them. Each with pictures and articles that in some way or another he knew must involve Chloe. "What have you found out?"

"So far, not much more than I knew before," Lucius replied and pinned Bruce with a look."Her records are sealed up tighter than a drum."

Bruce momentarily allowed his head to drop between his hunched shoulders. "I was afraid of that," he mumbled, remembering the last time he had tried to hack her files.

Lucius pointed to the screen on their immediate left where there was a myriad of swirling cursors and rapid information glancing wildly. "Those are in the process of being dealt with and no guarantees. They're under amazing security. However, I found this some time ago," Lucius directed Bruce's attention as he tossed a window upon the screen.

Bruce's brows raised in surprise at the photograph. "I didn't know Lex got married-again."

"Apparently, third time isn't the charm, but that isn't the best part," Lucius grinned, tapped the screen zooming in on the picture of the wedding party.

Bruce straightened immediately, slowly crossing his arms. There just behind the bride, a smile that had become just as familiar to him as his own reflection was Chloe as the singular maid of honor.

Lucius just leaned back in his chair. "Fire away," he said, knowing Bruce had a barrage of questions.

"Let's start with Lex," Bruce said through tight lips. His entire body stiffening at what possible connection Chloe might have with his former party pal. Even then, Bruce had known well enough that Lex was seemingly stable, but could easily become wildly unpredictable. He was a veritable astronomical anomaly.

"As far as I can tell, Lex lived in Ms. Sullivan's hometown of Smallville, Kansas for quite some time," Lucius began, his glasses dangling from his pinched fingertips and pointed to the bride. "This young woman here, Lana Lang, Ms. Sullivan and our boy in blue"—he referenced to Clark—"all graduated the same class. I can only presume"—he pointed to the photograph—"that Ms. Sullivan and Ms. Lang were quite good friends."

"Where is Lang now?" As if the question of whether she was still married to Lex needed to be asked.

"No one seems to know. The last report was that she had been killed in a car bomb. I've got someone looking into it," Lucius added. "Now everyone can guess what happened to Lionel," he said, giving Bruce a knowing glance from the corner of his eye.

Bruce didn't have to be hit over the head to know that Lex probably had Lionel killed or did the deed himself, which could undoubtedly be the case with his _"missing"_ ex-wife.

"So here you have half the bridal party dead or missing, an impromptu visit from Lex shortly after Ms. Sullivan's arrival in Gotham. Now I'm no genius, but I do believe that two plus two equals four," Lucius finished, leaving Bruce to only speculate.

Was she running from Lex? If so, then why? Did it have anything to do with what she'd done?

"And here I thought being involved with the mob was the worst thing that could happen," Bruce muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. "What about our friend?" he directed suddenly towards the issue of Clark.

At that, Lucius allowed a huff of amusement escape. "No one has seen him since he absconded with Ms. Sullivan, but I think that's another subject for another day. Right now we've got enough on our plate. As long as he's a friend, that's good enough."

Right now, Bruce wasn't certain if anyone Chloe was associated with could be counted as a friend.

"Lucius, try to get in touch with Lex."

Lucius lurched from his chair. "Excuse me?" clearly confused.

"He said that he wanted to allow Wayne Enterprises in on a joint venture. Tell him we're in. Find out what's involved. His gaze stone set on Chloe's image. "I think it's time we find out what the game is."

"Call me cautious, but don't you think we should find Miss Sullivan first? Her extremely fast friend may have decided to spirit her away from the city," he suggested.

"She didn't leave town," Bruce stated, almost matter-of-factly. If he knew nothing else about Chloe, he knew she wasn't a cut-and-run kind of girl.

After one last glance at her picture, he abruptly turned and walked back towards the lift. Lucius didn't need to ask where he was going.

He was a mass of turmoil.

Lucius only hoped she could calm the storm.

oOo

Quiet as a church mouse, Chloe crept across her apartment. Eyes glued on the prostrate form of Clark draped over her couch, Chloe was confident that she moved soundlessly, even to her ears. Laying her hand upon the door handle, she was sure that she was home free.

"You do realize that the floorboard by the dishwasher in the kitchen creaks, don't you?"

Chloe sighed, her shoulders dropped in defeat. "How could you know that?"

Clark sat up to look at her and tapped his ear. "Are you seriously sneaking out?" he asked and then his expression fell with disappointment. "You're going to see _him_, aren't you?" he declared, more than asked as he remembered last night. He never told Chloe that Bruce had come there that night, but it was clear the two had some kind of connection. Clark wasn't sure if he liked it.

Chloe blew an exasperated sigh through her lips. "As it happens, no, so you can wipe that grossly exaggerated look of disapproval off your face," she replied.

His eyes softened. "I'm sorry, Chloe," he apologized. "How are you feeling?"

Chloe didn't pause. "Determined," she replied, pinning him with a look.

At that, Clark beamed. "Great. We can be in Star City by—

"I'm not going to Star City," Chloe interrupted.

"_Chloe,"_ Clark practically whined. "After last night, it's just not safe here anymore. You said it yourself. They ransacked your apartment. You just _can't_ stay here."

Chloe put her chin in the air. "And I have no intention of staying here," she replied simply. "I'm going apartment hunting after I grab a very large coffee from _JavaScript._"

Clark heaved himself off the couch. "Chloe, really…

"What?" she asked, half expecting more haranguing and brow beating into going to Star City, but the uncertainty in his eyes said something else was up besides his very convenient run to her rescue. "Clark? What's going on?"

It was on the tip of Clark's tongue to spill about everything he knew about her mother. He knew well enough that would motivate her to run to Star City, yet he couldn't quite form the words. "Well, actually I—

Chloe suddenly threw up a halting hand. "Nevermind," she interrupted quickly, catching him off guard. "I'm going to need more than just a simple cup of coffee and some major de-stressing before I hear this, whatever it is," she added quickly. "I totally lost it last night and I'm not proud of that, so I'm going to need to pull myself together before you drop a bomb on me, no pun intended."

And with that, she swung out of the door and Clark simply watched her go.

This wasn't going to be easy.

oOo

Apartment hunting. She mentally scoffed. What a bust.

And she truly hadn't even gotten started.

Where could she possibly go now?

It wasn't likely that Oliver would be willing to foot the bill to rent a new apartment. Not after going against Clark in the move to Star City, which she was certain was at Oliver's behest. Her apartment had been as near to perfect as she could've found the first time around. Now she had two choices: cheap and roach-infested or nice and expensive. Clark would most certainly continue on his Star City campaign until she finally caved. But that was the least of her problems.

Clark had asked if she was going to see Bruce and every fiber of her being longed to know if he was all right. Had he made a complete recovery? She could only guess her efforts had been successful after Clark nearly scolded her for putting herself in that kind of danger. Oh, but she wanted to see him; longed to see if he was okay, yet just couldn't make herself go. Uncertainty the only thing holding her back.

She felt torn.

So now she found herself wandering around the park. A piece of the _Gazette's _front page blew past her along with the newly fallen leaves. A picture of the Joker's mug shot along with the headline _'Arkham Bound'. _That was some consolation, at least for the memories it conjured. Watching Bruce suddenly consumed by fire, knowing there was nothing that she could've done then. Only hoping afterwards that she had been able to right what had been seemingly so wrong.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear the subtle footfalls coming up behind her. A gentle clearing of the throat and she whirled to find him standing only a few feet away. He stood silent. His dark eyes were hard with worry, seeming to look over her, appraising her.

He appeared a little disheveled. His hair was delightfully mussed, a bit of a five o'clock shadow on his face. He wore his long black coat, but underneath she saw that he wore a pair of black sweats along with black hiking boots. She smiled. He was truly all right.

Completely overcome and without words, she rushed towards him. Before she could reach him, Chloe found herself caught up in his embrace. His arms felt strong, his form solid as he laid a hand against her head, pressing her against his chest. Chloe clung to him. Nearly afraid that letting go would mean he wasn't real; that he wasn't really there with her.

She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of him. "I was so worried," she exhaled, still shaken.

Bruce rested his chin on her the top of her head and tightened his grip, gently squeezing her. "So was I."

For a moment, they stood holding on to one another. Both finding a sense of relief, neither wanting to let go.

Bruce ran his hands up her back, from her shoulders down the length of her arms. He pulled away just enough to cup her face in his hands as he lightly ran the pad of his thumbs over her cheeks, carefully looking her over.

For a moment, Chloe was pleased with his concern, but watching as his eyes meticulously looked over every inch of her, she suddenly flinched and pulled away. "You know, don't you?"

Bruce furrowed his brows. "Only that it could've cost you your life," he said, offering no more.

"And you want me to fill in the blanks?" she suggested, her tone a bit incredulous, but only out of fear.

Bruce placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her closer once more, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity she'd never before seen. "There will be no filling in blanks because you won't be doing that again," he declared strongly. "No one is going to die because of me. Especially you," he emphasized the last with a gentle tug.

Chloe couldn't help it, but found her back stiffened. "As chivalrous as that is, but I make my own decisions," she countered just as strongly. "I wasn't going to let you die, not after…" she trailed off, unable to finish what she so badly wanted to say. "How did you even find me?" she blurted.

At that, Bruce smiled in a most devilish fashion. All seriousness suddenly lost.

Chloe's mouth dropped open and scoffed in mock outrage.

Bruce dropped his head as if properly chastised at being caught, only to turn smiling eyes back on her once more. "You know, that bag you carry goes with more than just one pair of shoes," he stated, nodding towards her black Gucci handbag.

A gust of wind rushed through the park, rustling the leaves around them; bringing Chloe back to a sense of reality. "Well, in that case, since you can follow me either way, want to come along?" she asked, turning towards the nearest way back to the main drag.

Bruce pulled her up against him once more. "Actually, I was hoping you would come with me," he murmured low.

Chloe felt a sudden rush of heat at the innuendo in his tone. "Hmmm, I smell an ulterior motive," she returned, with a wicked smile of her own.

"And what if I said breakfast came with that ulterior motive? Alfred made Belgian waffles," he said, absently placing a kiss on her forehead. "With whipped cream," he added.

Chloe stepped fully into his arms and wrapped her arms about his waist. "Well then, I'd say you had me at ulterior motive."

oOo

A/N: And I'll just leave you to speculate...

But, by all means, feel free to review.


	35. Chapter 35

_Author's Note: Here it is. I hope it's satisfactory ;-) By the way, can I get a show of hands? Should I put this under 'Crossovers'? _

**Disclaimer: After 35 chapters of disclaimers, y'all should know by now. **

oOo

_So what happens now?_

Chloe entered the manor to a flurry of activity. She watched with puzzled curiosity as men and women dressed as wait staff rushed up and down the hall appearing into the foyer only to disappear into another part of the house. Some carried trays, others elaborate floral arrangements.

She turned to where Bruce stood just slightly behind her, pulling off his motorcycle gloves. "Getting ready for a party?" she suggested in surprise.

"As a matter of fact…" he trailed off, not offering any more information. "Alfred!" he called as he took long strides to meet the butler that just appeared from the hallway leading out of the east wing. "If you wouldn't mind to show Miss Sullivan to some breakfast," he directed towards the spot where Chloe stood. "I'll join you momentarily," he said and quickly disappeared.

Chloe watched him as he bounded up the staircase with a sense of foreboding. As to why, she wasn't even certain. Truth be told, she suddenly felt like an outsider; quite the opposite from just the other morning.

With the atmosphere of the mansion and the rushing about of the staff, it was if she had stepped into a gothic drama. Only this time it wasn't Joan Fontaine playing the role of the suddenly timid outcast.

"If you would follow me, Miss Chloe," Alfred directed, interrupting her thoughts.

One look that older man's gentle smile and arm outstretched down the hall in invitation, Chloe didn't have the heart to try and excuse herself straight out the front door. Instead, she started down the hallway, Alfred only a step behind.

"So what's the occasion?" she asked, nodding towards a passing gentleman with a huge crystal vase full of roses and white lilies.

"Master Wayne has decided to throw a gala. A black and white ball, to be precise," Alfred replied.

"Oh," Chloe mumbled, wondering absently what the difference was between a regular ball versus the black and white version. The idea was rather impromptu considering the events of the last twenty-four hours. "Any particular reason why?"

"Other than to cause me a mind-splitting headache?" Alfred quipped, effectively dodging the question.

As Alfred directed her into the kitchen, Chloe looked at the breakfast laid out and felt overwhelmed that had absolutely nothing to do with the immense buffet of food laid out before them.

Nothing had been mentioned of the last twenty-four hours. Time itself almost demanded acknowledgement of the importance of past events and the notion was frightening. She knew his secret. He _knew_ that she knew his secret. He acted as though he knew hers. So where did that leave them?

_So what happens now?_

She felt like a whole new breed of interloper; an unwitting gatekeeper of secrets, as it were.

She felt like a fool to believe she'd be anything else. Slapping a hand against her forehead, Chloe allowed her fingers to slide down her face. "Gah, what am I even doing here?" she muttered low.

But not low enough. Alfred turned towards her. "Because Master Wayne was worried about you," he replied rather curtly, but soon gentled his tone at her pained look. "As a matter of fact, if he hadn't made the decision to find you and bring you here, I just might have come to fetch you myself. You gave me quite a scare, young lady," he waggled a chastising finger at her.

Chloe inadvertently straightened. She hadn't been referred to as _'young lady'_ since elementary school.

"But," he continued, his voice softening. "You have given me something quite precious and for that, I'll be forever grateful."

Chloe looked up at the hitch in his voice to see unshed tears beginning to well up in the older man's eyes. The sight alone pierced her heart. Of anyone else's tears, Alfred's was one of few that she simply didn't think she could bear. She threw her arms around his neck somewhat taking him by surprise. "Oh god, Alfred, please don't cry," she sniffed. "Because then I'll cry and we'll both be a mess."

Chuckling, he pulled away from her. "Well, we can't have that now, can we? So if I could direct your attention over here," he motioned towards the granite island.

Just as Bruce described, there were stacks of Belgian waffles with a side of several syrups and fruit toppings; unchecked emotions and unanswered questions to go along with it all. "I hope this will be satisfactory. Granted, it isn't much—

"It's perfect, Alfred," she said quickly as she eyed all the food. "I'll eat every bite," she promised, – _'til I puke.'_

Right now, she was willing to do anything to make that man happy. Even if it meant that she stuffed her face with ten pounds of fruit and waffles along with a gallon of maple syrup.

Chloe dutifully sat at the counter and stared at her plate that had been prepared for her. Anticipation came with a wave of uncertainty that had nothing to do with waffles and began to overcome her senses.

_So what happens now?_

"Will the television bother you, Miss Sullivan?" Alfred asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Chloe simply shook her head and shoved a syrupy bite into her mouth.

"…_just_ _touched down at Gotham International._ _Rumors have been circulating for weeks that Luthorcorp will be setting up shop in Gotham and it would seem that Mr. Luthor will be seeing to the venture personally. Undoubtedly, such a merger would increases shares for both companies…"_

Chloe froze instantly, all previous thoughts abandoned instantly. Disbelieving, she slowly turned to where the small flat screen was inlaid in the stainless steel Frigidaire. Unable to tear her eyes away from the screen, Chloe's heart began beating wildly as she watched Lex stride across the tarmac waving down the cameras. Full blown panic crashed through her, along with the glass in her hand that slipped from her grasp and promptly shattered on the tile floor.

The possibility that it was only a matter of time now before he found her was always lingered in the back of her mind. It was a moment that she knew could come at any time, but had secretly hoped that it wouldn't. Her greatest fear was that he had someone she cared about as bait her to goad her into coming out of hiding by using them. Because he knew it would work.

She didn't hear Alfred call out after her as she suddenly bolted out of the kitchen, down the hallway and straight for the foyer. Chloe fumbled through her purse for her phone as she ran. Had Clark tried to reach her? Oliver? Did they even know?

Just as she was about to make a clean break for the front door, Chloe was grabbed from behind and jerked to a sudden halt by a steely embrace.

"No!" she cried out in desperation. Bruce effectively spun her around to face him, yet she struggled against him anyway. "Let me go-please," she begged, her breath coming in broken gasps. "You have to let me—_what are you doing!_" she shrieked as Bruce merely bent, picked her up and slung her over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" she screamed as she pushed at his shoulders. "You don't understand! I have to go!"

Chloe continued to literally kick and scream as Bruce blithely strode down the hallway, ignoring some rather odd looks as he passed the kitchen and Alfred, who looked on in confusion when Bruce merely tossed him Chloe's bag.

"Alfred! Please help me!" Chloe screamed in vain.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Chloe," was his apology as it echoed down to her. "He has his own way in these things!"

oOo

Apartment hunting? Horses' ass.

Clark knew where Chloe was and to say that he didn't approve was a masterpiece of understatement. However, he did realize that it wasn't up to him. If Chloe liked the guy, then there must be something…_salvageable_ about the man or so he supposed.

Not wanting to dwell on it before he lost his good judgment and fetched Chloe himself, Clark decided to peruse the downtown area of Gotham. Casually strolling down the street to _JavaScript_, Clark allowed his gaze to carefully run over each and every facet of the city. It wasn't Metropolis. That much was for certain. But at least there was one part of the city that was trying to improve. It might not be leaps and bounds, but it was a start. It was easy to see why Chloe would choose such a place, never a dull moment.

Walking into_ JavaScript_ Clark found that the café was bustling full this morning rather than the one vacant evening he'd spent there after helping Chloe relocate. While standing in line, Clark quickly noted that most of them were buzzing around flat screen televisions in different parts of the café.

A casual sweeping glance over the screen and Clark was suddenly frozen to his spot in the line. That bald head walking across the screen was unmistakable.

'_Luthor in Gotham' _was the caption at the bottom of the screen.

Just when Clark quickly turned to super speed his way to Chloe only to receive what nearly felt like the shock of his life. He flinched with a jolt when he encountered a very familiar, yet aggravated pair of golden-green eyes.

"Smallville? What the hell are you doing here?"

Clark quickly pulled Lois off to the side. "Me?" his voice cracked. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for answers," she replied, gesturing towards the television. "Which tells me that you've got a lot of explaining to do."

Clark's head lolled. He did _not_ need this right now. He anxiously surveyed the area for a quick escape. Hn, fat chance. "You were supposed to stay in Metropolis until I called you, remember?" he whispered roughly.

Lois scoffed. "Oh c'mon, Clark. My aunt is missing while my cousin is M.I.A. Did you honestly think I was going to _'keep the home fires burning'_ until I got a phone call? You should know me better than that by now."

He turned with a bright smile of cynicism. "Clearly, I gave you too much credit."

Lois tilted her head with a tired look. "Look, Smallville," she began. "If you must know, I followed him here. So now you're here and he's here," she gestured once more towards the television. "So that tells me my baby cousin is here somewhere. So consider me a permanent fixture 'til we find Chloe. Got that?"

Great.

oOo

Before she realized what was happening, Chloe was unceremoniously dumped onto the hard surface of a leather couch. Once she gained her equilibrium, Chloe leapt up just in time to hear a key grate in a lock; a lock that belonged to the great double doors inside the immense library where she and Bruce had first encountered one another.

She launched herself from the couch towards the doors only to be stopped by Bruce bracing his hands on her shoulders. Chloe was confused, yet determined. "What is wrong with you? I have to go," she said when he gripped her shoulders and tried pushing her back towards the couch.

His dark eyes bored down into hers. "We need to talk," he stated.

"You know, that would've been great to hear about thirty minutes ago, but now I don't have time to talk," she stated plainly and brought her arms up in a defensive maneuver that knocked away his hold on her shoulders. She wasted no time in trying to get around him.

But he was much faster and continued to block her attempts.

Finally she stopped and threw up her hands and closed her eyes as if she were trying to control the immense force of her aggravation. "Are you out of your mind?" Chloe wasn't sure what he was playing at. As far as she was concerned, he was gunning for another sparring match.

As if he knew precisely what she was thinking, Bruce simply shrugged. "Look, if you want to rack up your tab"-he gestured to all the priceless items around them –"just to try to kick my ass again-then, by all means, be my guest."

Chloe swept the room in a glance, noting at least two more Tiffany lamps and what looked to be several priceless figurines and sculptures. She took a deep, calming breath. She didn't want to drag him into the debacle that was soon going to involve Lex. "I won't have to if you let me out."

Bruce held up the key in a taunting fashion. With a smirk he flung it away. Where it landed? In such an immense gallery that was the library, it was anyone's guess. Ignoring her look of outrage, he sauntered away from the doors.

Chloe didn't have time for his smug attitude and began to pound on the doors. "Help, please! Somebody get me out of here!"

At that, Bruce turned to watch her with an unusual feeling of bemusement and actually chuckled. "What are you doing?" he asked with wryly. The doors were thick and Alfred would have had a better chance at hearing a pin drop in Venezuela than hear her even if he were standing on the other side.

Chloe simply shot a withering glance over her shoulder. "I have eyes and ears too," she said rather pointedly with great implication.

He hummed a rather patronizing affirmation at that particular claim. This would be so much easier if he could just knock her out again. But he could no longer afford to beat around the bush. No sooner had he instructed Lucius to contact Lex than said Luthor had landed at Gotham International. It was too close for comfort and hardly a coincidence. Bruce was hardly a man that believed in coincidence. In addition to the fact that Chloe had just tried to run out of his home as if she were on fire confirmed any suspicion he may have had about her connection to Luthor was more than just being in his wedding party.

Watching her continue to pound the door relentlessly, Bruce was beginning to grow impatient at waiting for her to give up her struggle. He quickly stepped towards her, spinning her around and pinned her up against the doors.

He placed his hands on either side of her head and leaned in nearly nose-to-nose with her. "Like it or not, this is for your protection—

"My protection?" she scoffed, her eyes wide with incredulity.

"Luthor. That's why you're running isn't it?"

At first, she was momentarily stunned by his mention of Lex, though she didn't know that she should be surprised. Realization soon hit her and Chloe laughed in an ugly fashion. "I should've known," she muttered, shaking her head. How easily she'd forgotten just with whom she was faced. "That's what this is really about?" she referred to his bringing her to the mansion. She suddenly felt sick with foolishness. To believe that he might have wanted anything else other than her company…

She scoffed up at him. "Don't insult what little intelligence you think I have. This isn't about my protection. This wasn't about your concern for me at all, was it?This_—_this _ruse_ is about you bilking me for information!" The hurt in her tone was unmistakable, even to her ears and she silently cursed herself for it.

His gaze hardened at her words. "It isn't like that."

"Isn't it?"

"No!" he shot out. His mind was suddenly awash with images of Rachel. For two women so different in appearance and personality, Chloe and Rachel held a similarity in their pursuit of the truth. Rachel was always ready to take on the most difficult of situations and by herself, if need be. Hell, she had confronted the Joker in his penthouse at Dent's fundraiser in an attempt to divert the psychopath's attention away from everyone. It had just been lucky that he'd been there then. But it was much later that he wasn't able to help Rachel; wasn't able to save her. Suddenly, his memory of those placid brown eyes quickly became flashing green with fury as Chloe continued to look up him with anger and skepticism.

He took a deep breath and leaned in closer. "Look, no more secrets. No more games. You need to tell me your connection to Luthor?"

He wasn't quite prepared for her sudden burst of anger. She exploded out of his hold, her palms connecting with his chest as she shoved him away. "Who are you to give me a lecture on secret keeping? Do you even hear yourself?" she half-shouted. "Some detective you are!" she sneered at him; trying to hurl any insult at him in a last ditch effort to try to hurt him, if for no other reason, but to soothe her own. She crossed her arms and glared at him. "I've used a lot of unorthodox and stupid methods in the past to learn information, but I wouldn't put on this—this _act _of false sincerity- to seduce my way to the information I want," her voice near to cracking as she referred to the entire premise that he cared anything about her.

His eyes darkened at her implications and Chloe thought she was going to have quite a satisfying fight on her hands. She gasped as Bruce grabbed her wrists and shoved her back against the doors, effectively pinning her there. Before she could launch a struggling protest, his lips came crashing down onto hers. His hands quickly left her wrists to cup the sides of her face; turning her head to deepen the kiss as if he meant to devour her.

With her hands braced against his chest; the anger that surged through her soon dissolved into hunger. Suddenly, all thoughts of Lex, any misgivings she may have had seemed to melt away. There was even a fleeting voice that scolded her about her lack of self control, but she soon banished it to back of her mind.

Abruptly, he broke the kiss, leaving them both virtually breathless. He craned his head back, gazing down at her through hooded lids. "Rest assured Chloe Sullivan, I could seduce you right here, right now-without ever mentioning Luthor's name again, or anyone else-make no mistake," he breathed and bent to kiss her again.

Chloe put two halting fingers against his lips and turned her head away. "Don't do this," she whispered through gathering tears. "I'll tell you anything. Just don't—don't do this."

At that, his hands dropped away from her and backed away enough to watch her scurry around him like a frightened animal. He wasn't certain if he should be flattered or insulted that she found his kissing her to be some form of torture. The pain in her eyes suggested that she still thought he was using her, but he didn't have the time for that argument right now.

"I can protect you," he finally said, his voice rough with emotion.

Chloe's heart squeezed with an ache at such a fervent declaration. But she didn't want him to protect her. He nearly died from his last attempt.

"Keeping me locked inside this mansion isn't going to protect me, Bruce," she said. With a deep breath, she turned to him with a bittersweet smile. "You can't fight my battles for me."

Her seemingly placid demeanor didn't hide the naked terror he saw in her eyes. She was thinking of that night in the theater. He began to grow tense for he felt her fear was grossly misplaced, but there was no sense in arguing that point either. He was beginning to reach the end of his rope. _Quid pro quo_, he supposed.

"He wants something from both of us," he declared. "So whatever you think that you're protecting _me _from is best left ignored."

Chloe straightened. "What do you mean?"

He put his hands on his hips. "That, at this point, we should pool our resources –

Chloe shook her head. A furrowed look of confusion fast replaced any semblance of fear. "No. I mean what does Lex want from you?"

Bruce exhaled. "Luthor wants a joint venture with Wayne Enterprises," he informed reluctantly. "As to what, I'm not certain, but that's what I plan to find out tonight. "

Chloe's thoughts flew to the gala that was so spur-of-the-moment. "And you think that it has something to do with me?"

Bruce pinned her with a stare. "Possibly," he replied. "It could have something to do with you. Or it could have absolutely nothing to do with you. But you ran from Lex to come here to Gotham. Now he's here. That's too many coincidences to be random."

She sighed heavily with worry and looked away. Her strained expression was more than he could stand. He moved closer to her. "What does Lex want from you?" he asked once more.

She lifted her lids to look at him.

"My heart," she whispered.

Bruce inwardly flinched in confusion at that response. Before he could ask exactly what she meant by that, the library doors exploded open with all the finesse of a bomb. On the other side stood the man Bruce had seen on the surveillance footage that had whisked Chloe away only two nights ago.

"Clark!" her voice burst through the library. "No! Wait, please. If you would just—

Her voice was cut off by a great gust of air as Bruce watched Chloe disappear before his eyes. He whirled towards the open doorway only to find Alfred staring at him in apology.

"I'm sorry, sir. I tried to stop him," he said nervously.

Bruce lowered his head with a wry grin. "It's all right, Alfred," he replied. "For now, she's probably safer with him," he added, remembering the conversation between Chloe and this man on her apartment rooftop. Whoever he was, at least he seemed to care enough about what happened to her.

However, whisking her away was only delaying the inevitable.

But not if he had anything to say about it.

oOo

Author's Note: Sorry for the cliffhanger. Hopefully, Lex's appearance in the next chapter will make up for that.

Aw crap, I gave it away didn't I?


End file.
